


(anthem for all lost toys)

by devilishMendicant



Series: koi's ddlc baby fics (aka the magical ballpit) [5]
Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Caregiver!Natsuki, Caregiver!Sayori, Caregiver!Yuri, Little!Monika, Non-Sexual Age Play, One-Twoshot Collection, Other, Updating Tags/Warnings When Needed, little!yuri, now we have the 'monika baby' collection to go with the 'monika angst' collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25799860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilishMendicant/pseuds/devilishMendicant
Summary: A collection of oneshots, twoshots, etc... ageplay edition, because I have enough of those to make an entire separate thing. Exciting!Features:- Little!Monika, variable!everyone else, my reasons are vast and unknowable (i like it and i said so)- Additional Classification AUs & Adopted-By-Nonhumans AUs! (since yeah sure baby whatever)- AUs of AUs I haven't even published, because I just, write, and then keep writing, and only occasionally let people see it (that's just how it is!)
Series: koi's ddlc baby fics (aka the magical ballpit) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713370
Comments: 50
Kudos: 61





	1. come home (1/2)

**Author's Note:**

> Tangentally Related Author's Note: Just because I don't think this is common knowledge anymore, the "non-sexual age play" tag is a kink tag, and is a subcategory of "age play"; that means that all works tagged with "non-sexual age play" also pop up if you look in the "age play" tag proper, which contains explicit content! If you're someone out there writing agere, or chire (or, er, whatever other Warriors-esque clans that concept has branched off into?) and you're either a) openly identifying as a minor or b) uncomfortable with the ageplay kink/uncomfortable with people who like the ageplay kink reading your fic, I'd recommend you use the "age regression/de-aging" tag instead, as that tag refers to mental and/or physical regression exclusively which is, I assume, what you're actually writing about, or at least the audience you're looking for. Cheers!
> 
> Directly Related Author's Note: Would NOT recommend reading this if you prefer canon content. Honestly, would really only recommend reading this if you A) are exactly as hyperfixated on DDLC & ageplay dynamics, simultaneously, as I am and B) would like some random anime girl names peppered into your ageplay reading to spice up the usual random idol boy names peppered into your ageplay reading. (it's still idol boys out there right? i hereby decree monika and that one bts dude everyone likes get a playdate together. its only fair)
> 
> Here's a key to what you'll see at the top of each chapter -  
> Characters?: replacing my "angst level" is instead, where I'll tell you which characters feature in the story and what role they have! i've been told people like to know that before reading things and i'm taking that to heart  
> AU?: this'll tell you whether it's Classification stuff, Adopted-By-Nonhuman, or just... regular-degular!  
> Warnings?: if there's any potentially triggering/non-moderate content within... i'll tell you! and then you can skip it if you don't like it because life is too short to read stories you don't like!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: Adopted-By-Nonhuman AU (but u have to read chapter 2 to see the specific nonhuman. thats how i get u)  
> Warnings?: other than it being noncanon as fuck, nah!

“I— I don’t _wanna_ go hommeee,”

Monika whimpers, clinging to Sayori’s hand like a caterpillar clings to a twig in a windstorm; trying to breathe through the tears streaming down her face is a losing battle that results mostly in hiccups and a dizzying sense of - she doesn’t even _know._ She doesn’t want to go home. She’s _never_ wanted to go home, but she’s never cried about it and definitely never so _much,_ and she doesn’t know why she’s started today. She doesn’t want to go home ever again. She wants Sayori to pick her up.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sayori sighs - not a disapproving sigh, a gentle ‘I-understand’ sigh and Monika wails _more_ for it, it’s too _much!_ Doesn’t she see it’s too much?

The brown-haired girl moves to push her sore, drippy face into the toy she’s carrying (that Sayori bought her), only to be carefully stopped by fingers beneath her chin and a tissue wiping her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

“Sh, baby, just a second,” Sayori soothes as Monika— f- _fusses?_ Some unearthly noise that seems the only way to express her frustration because she’s tired and her face hurts, the light is making her eyes itch and,

“You don’t want your new friend all messy, right? There you go.”

Monika buries her face in the soft happy turtle with a hiccup, fingers already instinctively searching the seam-stitches on his back to self-soothe. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine. She wouldn’t want Sayori to be mad at her, would she? Then she’d never bring Monika back to this place. She must have whimpered again at the thought, because Sayori reaches over her shoulders and pulls her into a soft hug and Monika _melts,_ just like she had every time Sayori held her hand or tucked her hair back or fussed over her jacket. It’s not fine. She doesn’t want to go home.

“C—Can’d we _staayy,”_ Monika mumbles, a tremor running down her back. “P-Ple-ea’de,”

“Aw, good manners,” Sayori says, lightly petting up and down Monika’s back. “You liked the indoor park, huh?”

“I— l-li’ge _you!”_

Which is not something she expected to be sobbing into the shoulder of a transfer student she met maybe a month ago, but it’s _true -_ if not for Sayori, Monika isn’t sure she would have liked any of it. The make-a-friend store was too big, the food was too correct, the people playing at the park were all acting strange and everybody in a uniform had eyes that were _much_ too deep, but none of it had been frightening because - Sayori was there and she held Monika when she nearly tipped into an animal bin, and she let Monika come running back as many times as she needed to at the park, and she portioned Monika’s food so it wasn’t _overwhelming,_ and she didn’t make Monika talk to anyone with deep eyes.

 _Sayori_ was the reason she liked the trip.

 _Sayori_ was the reason she wanted to come back.

 _Sayori_ was the reason she felt _safe_ enough to come back.

“P- _Plea’de,”_ she whimpers again, arm not wound around her turtle wrapped around Sayori, “I don’ _wanna_ go h-hom’b. W-Wanna go wit’you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” whispers Sayori, arms tight around Monika, who gives one last sob before the last of her energy falls from her chest and she breathes shakily, exhausted. “I know. And you can, baby,”

Monika’s breath catches.

“But not yet.”

And releases as a pained whine.

Sayori shushes her gently again, pulls one hand back to brush Monika’s cheek. “Sh, shh, I know. I have to be ready, Monnie, I’m sorry. Do you remember what the lady at the toy store told you?”

Monika does remember the woman - deep-eyed - who had put the warm stuffing in her turtle’s soft shell, put in the little heart and affixed the emblem (winged heart) to his chest, embroidered patch that had been tapped to Monika’s forehead, heart, nose, cheeks, lips.

“He’ll keep you safe until you can come with me, okay? I know he can do it. He’s very brave.”

The patch was the oddest part of the affair, because it had...

_(“And your cute little nose, so he’ll always smell like your favorite things!”)_

Monika presses her face to her turtle again, and takes a long breath of a blanket she hasn’t seen in 16-and-a-half years and the library of the school where she attended kindergarten and the perfume of the woman who had run after-school daycare in third grade.

“H-He _g‘an?”_

“Yes,” hums Sayori, smoothing Monika’s bangs back from her forehead - and Monika believes her, with all her heart. “He won’t let anything hurt you again. And neither,” she continues, firmly, “Will I.”

Monika feels the tears prickling again - only prickling, her heart worn out, limp and wrung of tears, but prickling all the same.

“T—Thha _aan’gk youuu,”_

“Shh,” Sayori soothes,

Lets Monika cry out the paradoxic hurt; hurt like frostbitten fingers in hot water, a numb leg massaged and receiving blood again.

And walks her home.

* * *

Sayori had been very right - Turtle protected her.

Monika named him a day after she got home. She thought, maybe, that she shouldn’t - that he would be gone again too fast to need a name - but Mother and Father didn’t even _look_ at him.

Or, they did, Monika supposed - they looked at where he was, nestled in Monika’s arms, then went back to what they were doing without a word. She wasn’t... sure, what to make of it.

So she named him Turtle. It wasn’t a very clever name, but she liked it and it fit him and she hummed happily under her bed as she told him that, quietly, and hugged him tight.

His stuffing was still as warm as it was when she hugged him the first time, and she sleeps very soundly.

She brings him to school. Sayori is absent, which makes Monika very sad, but Turtle reminds her why that is and she feels a little more like she can face the day. Nobody at school sees Turtle, either; and nobody makes fun of her or says mean things.

Actually, everyone seems kind of nice, for once, and it’s a very pleasant (and confusing) surprise. She doesn’t get hit with _any_ dodgeballs in P.E., and when one whizzes very close by her, _three people_ hiss “Be careful!” to the person who threw it and he looks very sorry. Someone gives her a carton of chocolate milk at lunch and Monika gets invited to _sit at a table_ and everyone passes her _something_ to eat, and every once in awhile glance over to her with a sweet smile and wave. The boy who sits across from her in math tells her _good job!_ when she finishes her quiz. A girl in study hall reads her history textbook aloud to her whenever she needs to find the answer to a question.

It’s surreal and the best day Monika has ever had at school, and it only gets better when she gets home and Mother and Father say _hello._ It is, in fact, all they say to her, and that makes the best day ever _better -_ Monika is awash in contentment as she finishes her homework and entertains herself in her room and is brought downstairs for dinner, and Mother and Father talk adult business between each other over her head.

She is struck with the thought that this is all very similar to when she was young enough to not matter to them, as long as she was quiet and good. And Monika is now _very_ skilled at being quiet and good.

She tells Turtle this when she’s close to sleeping; Turtle agrees. Monika runs her fingers over his seam and thinks about Sayori’s favorite mall and falls asleep without being scared someone will find her.

The only person who could find her is Sayori, and she isn’t frightening at all.


	2. come home (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori, Caregiver!Natsuki  
> AU?: Adopted-By-Nonhuman AU (it's angels surprise!)  
> Warnings?: nope! senseless fluff!

Sayori hasn’t been human for a _looooooong_ time.

Which is making this preparation a little difficult.

Natsuki, of course, had laughed, as Natsuki was prone to doing when Sayori got her feathers in a flurry over practically anything at all. Whether it was because Sayori was suddenly nesting (which she had sworn up and down she’d never ever do, like Natsuki had) or because Sayori seemed to have forgotten literally everything about humans the moment she laid eyes on the _’cutest one there ever was’_ \- well. That was up for debate.

“C’mon, Sayo, calm _down._ I’m sure she’s gonna love it, okay?”

“I just—!” Sayori stammers, hugging the ridiculously soft blanket in her arms as though it could be a substitute to her slightly absent sanity. Wings fluffed out, aura pulsing and flaring; she really was the picture of a panicking angel. Which was stupid, considering everything, but really, how do you think she got to be such a young-faced angel in the first place? Wise life decisions? _Hah._

“Sayo. Deep breaths. I’m _telling_ you, the kid is gonna love it. What was she doing when you were scrying a couple hours ago?”

“... hiding under her bed,” Sayori admits, a twinge of empathetic pain passing through her chest at the thought.

“Exactly. The bar is so low and, in my _personal_ and much lauded opinion, you have skyrocketed over it and landed on a cloud made of rainbows and sunbeams.”

Sayori smiles, weakly, fiddling with the blanket’s soft looped tag.

“I— I know. I just, I don’t wanna mess up anything, you— you feel me? She’s so...”

Furrows her brow.

“... Natsuki, she’s so _small,”_

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad,” Natsuki says, crossing her arms. “If Yuyu was only somewhere yea-high, then—“

“Natsuki,”

“C’mon, what color is her aura. Pastel yellow? Baby blue? Another lil’ periwinkle?”

“Natsuki it’s _white.”_

The other angel stops still where she had been teasingly counting off colors on her fingers.

“... Sayori, that’s not even possible. She wouldn’t be alive, you dip.”

“Well, then it’s so goshdarn light I can’t tell what color it’s supposed to be!” Sayori returns, crossing her arms closer to herself. “... maybe green, she really likes...”

Natsuki blinks, once or twice - then sighs, hand suddenly settling on Sayori’s shoulder.

“Eesh, you’re hopeless,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Look. I _know_ that it’s not gonna be _that bad,_ worrywart, and furthermore, since I’m feeling very charitable and Yuyu isn’t due to wake up for another hour at least - I’ll help you get ready. Okay? Two pairs of wings helping out oughta get this finished?”

“Y— Yeah,” Sayori stammers, then sighs in turn, aura leveling out just a smidgeon. “Yeah. Thanks, Nat, you’re the best.”

“And don’t I know it!” She beams, hands coming down to rest on her hips. “Now! What else do we gotta do, huh? How big _is_ the scamp, anyway?”

“Oh, one or two!”

“Oh, one o— _Sayori she’s **what?!”**_

“One or two! You know, a baby! Well, mostly. I think she’s having some trouble with it, but humans can’t see that stuff, so I guess it’s real hard for them.”

Pause.

“Nat?”

“You decided on... a baby. Miss Never-Nest herself. Went out. And got herself imprinted. On a _baby.”_

“I— _Natsu!_ I couldn’t just _leave_ her, you—“

“Hey, hey! Whatever, okay, I’m not gonna rain judgement on you, I’m just— you know what? I’m sure _all_ will become clear when you finally get the kid home,” Natsuki groans, following Sayori into the other room. 

* * *

Monika wasn’t really sure when she was _expecting_ to see Sayori again. Maybe at school, since that’s where they saw each other at first. Or on the train, since Sayori didn’t need a ticket to ride it, or somewhere else equally sensible.

Where she was _not_ expecting to see Sayori again was peeking through the door to her bedroom, so Monika feels perfectly justified in the absolutely undignified way she squeaks and hides her face behind Turtle. Who, was in her lap because he was an excellent study buddy, of course.

“Oh! Sorry, Monnie, did I scare you?”

“No,” Monika mumbles, face still slightly obscured by stuffed tortoise. “Um...”

“Um what?” Sayori says, closing the door lightly behind her and treading across the carpet to where Monika was seated. “Whatcha up to? Boring homework things?”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t be calling it _boring,_ though, or you’re not gonna pass classes.”

Although...

“... um. If you’re here, then...”

That’s right; the last time they’d hung out together... what Sayori said, then. Monika squeezes Turtle a little tighter to her chest.

Truth be told, the homework since Sayori had left was... light. Very light. And school went very well, with Turtle in tow, and Mother and Father had been... distracted, almost, by anything else at all. All for the better, really, since Monika hasn’t been doing a very good job...

She hasn’t noticed that her feet have started to make small kicks beneath her chair, nor that her knuckle has come up to push her lower lip into her mouth. If Sayori is here again, after what she said last time, then that must mean—

“Aw, cutie, you’re ready to come home with me, huh?”

Monika’s gaze flashes upwards in an instant.

 _Yes. Yes,_ Monika is ready to go home with Sayori. Monika has been ready to go home with Sayori for _ages,_ or— well, weeks, but it might as well be ages for how long it _seemed,_ and Sayori is giggling quietly under her breath, resting an affectionate hand on Monika’s head.

(Sayori can see what Monika can’t - the way the girl’s aura, the absolute _lightest_ green Sayori has ever seen, flared to life upon hearing the question, reaching from its sickly dormant position and gathering where she gently laid her hand - sticking like glue to Sayori’s ocean blue.)

“Well, then, we should go! I wouldn’t wanna make you wait anymore,” Sayori hums, ruffling Monika’s hair in a way that fills the brunette’s chest with a fuzzy warmth.

“R— Right _now?”_

“Mhm!”

“But...”

“I don’t think you’re gonna need your homework, baby,” Sayori says, a smile in her voice as Monika’s attention moves away from her worksheets in surprise.

_”Really?”_

Monika doesn’t— know, exactly, what to make of the lightness in her voice, the tiny tremor - the way she’s suddenly feeling, like the day Sayori brought her to the mall. Like Sayori’s voice is wrapping her up in something warm. Like her room is bigger than it really is. Like Sayori could pick her up.

But whatever it is, she thinks, holding her turtle tightly - it’s not anything like how it was _before._

And it’s _that_ thought, the shudders she gets when she thinks about how everything was before she met Sayori Kimura, that pushes her fully into the warm embrace of something she didn’t know anything of except that it was _good._

And Sayori beams.

“Really, pumpkin. C’mon, let’s you and me go strolling~! My house isn’t too far,” she says, and Monika turns in her chair with a hurried, somewhat clumsy motion.

“Really?” She repeats - blushes, as she gets to her feet and realizes it. “Um, I mean— um— yes, let’s go to your house, please.”

“Good manners!” Sayori praises, and Monika’s heart swells. “Oh, I almost forgot - here you go! I found it on my walk here.”

Sayori presses a white, downy feather into Monika’s hand.

“It looks neat, huh? Can you hold onto it while we’re walking back? Maybe you can find out where it came from!”

It _was_ a pretty feather - cream-colored and soft and almost like a pearl, when the light caught it. A sensible answer to those statements would have been something like, _It probably came from a bird_ or _Why wouldn’t I hold it?_ but, instead, something else comes out while Monika is mildly captivated by the little treasure.

“But what’a bout Turtle?”

Which would seem a strange thing to say, but Monika had barely time to get the words out before she was struck by how much she wanted to be holding Sayori’s hand, and she blinks and tries desperately to think of why on Earth that would be her first thought and she settles, satisfactorily, on that since Sayori certainly couldn’t actually pick her up, holding hands would be the next best thing. She _liked_ it when Sayori held her hand. She didn’t drag Monika to places she didn’t want to go; she just kept Monika’s hand safe while they went somewhere.

“Could I hold Turtle for you while we walk?” Sayori asks, kindly, and Monika is certain that Sayori is the only other person in the world she’d trust to hold Turtle - so she nods.

* * *

Monika kept hold of the feather and Sayori’s hand, and by the time they make it to Sayori’s house, Sayori is relatively certain that Monika could guess where the feather came from.

Maybe not right when they left; after all, Turtle should have been doing a very good job of smoothing Monika away from - those other two people’s vision. Going unacknowledged entirely wasn’t too big of a hint.

Maybe not even as they’d meandered down the walkway, Sayori being careful to walk at the pace Monika wanted to set. The shift in atmosphere when they walked to the mall before, after all, hadn’t given the girl enough pause to comment on it, so perhaps it was the same way now - even if a few more, usually-skittish animals graced their path.

But Sayori’s house does, sort of, invoke a sense. A nice sense, she’d like to think - a protective sense, a safe and warm and fluttery sense. There was a reason she picked this house, after all! The identical feather on the doorstep (to which Monika had given a truly adorable gasp and bent to pick up) was also, sort of, a giveaway.

The several dozen identical feathers _through_ the door, settled in the sofa, the loveseat, scattered across the carpet - one tucked in the bookshelf - on tables and chairs and the armful in the blankets in the bed alone, quite enough to make an educated guess.

“S’yori?”

“Mhm?”

“Are,” Monika breathes, turning towards her in awe, “Are you’n _angel?”_

“Yup!” She says, grinning, and _oh_ how her heart soars when Monika _beams-_

“Welcome home, cutie!”


	3. wouf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: regular-degular  
> Warnings?: the baby talk is a littttlllee hard to read but. i like writing it like that so i apologize for nothing. boo

_What_ is _that._

_What is that!_

* * *

“Monnie? Monnie, baby,” Mama’s voice coos, squeezing softly around Monika from where she’s sitting in Mama’s lap. “Do you want to pet the puppy?”

“... ub’by?” Monika squeaks - still pressing herself nervously into Mama’s chest, staring at the very _tall_ fluffy furry snuffly...

“Mmhm. He’s a big puppy, isn’t he?” Mama hums, calm as ever, gently smoothing Monika’s hair down as the big _big_ tall puppy sits patiently in front of them, tilting his head.

“B— _big,”_ Monika agrees, still trembling the tiniest bit even as Mama holds her as safely as possible.

Monika and the puppy have a bit of a standoff. A— well, a sit-off, really, and Monika is feeling a little less scared the more the puppy sits patiently. Mama says something to the puppy, or maybe moves her hand - Monika can’t tell, not when she’s all nervous and focused - and the puppy makes a funny noise as he lays down in front of them, instead of sitting. Now Monika doesn’t have to tilt her head all the way up to look at him and he seems much, _much_ less enormous, and she blinks cautiously as the puppy looks up at her and pants.

“Baby, look, he’s wagging his tail!” Mama says, pointing to the puppy’s floppy-fluffy tail moving this way and that. “That means he’s happy to meet you!”

“... y’aiw?”

“Mmhm,” says Mama, holding her so gently and carefully, and Monika bites on her own lower lip before very very very very slowly reaching out a hand to pat the fluff on the puppy’s head.

“Good _job,_ baby!”

The fluffy on the puppy’s head is _very_ soft, and he wags his tail even more now that Monika is carefully patting him, and Monika smiles a little bit because Mama sounds so happy and the puppy is so soft.

“Go’u sshob, ‘aby,” Monika parrots, happily burying her fingers in the puppy’s fluff. “S’owf ub’by.”

“Mhmm, he _is_ soft, isn’t he?” Mama says, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Monika’s head.

“He’s a good puppy, huh?”

“Go’u ub’by!” Monika agrees, beaming - squeaking when the puppy nuzzles her arm with a cold, soft nose,

But Mama’s still holding her, giggling softly, so it must be alright.


	4. dropsick (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori, Caregiver!Natsuki, Caregiver!Yuri  
> AU?: Classification AU  
> Warnings?: mmmmnope

And after all that, Monika realizes, miserably - this is going to be the last straw. Holding it together through waking up late; losing her homework; snapping her backpack strap; spilling hot coffee in her lap; missing the exit; tripping in the hallway; forgetting to study for the test; rolling her ankle in P.E.; no money for lunch...

All of _that,_ and more. Truly, the worst, most monstrous, absolute most horrible, no good, _very bad day,_ and she had **still** kept some semblance of a stiff upper lip until _stupid Sayori and the only stupid way she knew how to make people happy by giving them stupid physical **affection—**_

She’d said _no,_ not like Sayori heard anything between seeing a sad friend and immediately wrapping them in a huge perfect safe warm hug, she’d said no and she tried so hard and everything went _wrong_ and her forehead is still stinging where she’d knocked it into the cabinet and she hiccups, she can’t _cry_ not right now she just needs to push Sayori off and run _home_ so she can— just— ~~weep it out all alone in her bedroom like always nothing is going to change that if you can’t get it under control you’re going to die alone, you know that? sorry excuse for a shimizu~~

Monika was, probably, about to say something.

But her voice cracks and she gasps in a breath, uneven, forgetting that her head is pressed into the soft spot in Sayori’s neck and she smells like _sunshine,_ Sayori smells like sunshine, and hugs, and kisses and snuggles and cookies and milk and rocking and loving, and Monika absolutely cannot hold out any longer against the tiny voice in her head whimpering _Mama_ than she already has.

Monika’s grip falters - trembles,

And, finally, nosing desperately into the spot where Sayori smelt sunshiney-est as a pained _sob_ rushes through her entire body; slips completely.

* * *

_Monika is not a Baseline,_ is what Sayori thinks, dumbly, as the standing president of Literature Club begins to sob openly into her neck, clinging to her vest.

“M-Monika?” She stammers, because— because _maybe_ she’s wrong, she’s been wrong before, so hesitantly she presses her nose to Monika’s head and oh good god Monika is a little. Monika is a Little. Monika is a _little_ Little, because every single cell in Sayori’s body cried _baby!_ at the exact same time when Sayori nuzzled into _Monika_ but, softer - very nearly _sickly_ sweet, oh god. Monika is a _baby._ That’s what her results, folded neatly and dispassionately and dropped directly into her backpack, stated in formal lettering. Monika was a Little and a baby at that and why wouldn’t she—?

... that’s a question that’s not going to get an answer right now. In fact, Sayori realizes (dimly aware that she’s rocking Monika gently, soothing noises humming in her throat) with a sinking feeling, that might not even be a question that gets answered in a bit. The off-tinge to Monika’s scent is only getting more sickly-sweet by the second, which only meant one thing.

“Oh, baby,” Sayori sighs, holding Monika tightly to herself as she wails all her displeasures onto Sayori’s shoulder, “You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself, have you?”

_..._

_”Monika’s a **baby?!** ”_

Thankfully (kind of), Monika had slipped during the tail end of their club meeting; the school building was practically barren at this point, which made it much less likely that somebody would wander in wondering why Natsuki was hollering at the top of her lungs.

“Maybe don’t _yell_ it, Natsuki,” Yuri grimaces. Monika might have been crying at the exact same rate and pitch as she was earlier anyway, but, still.

Sayori frowns protectively, shifting her hold on Monika slightly (goodness knew she wasn’t going to tolerate a _large_ shift in position right now) as the girl wept into the shoulder of her uniform blazer.

“I— _think_ so,” Sayori says. “But she’s... she, um...”

“This wasn’t voluntary,” Yuri supplies.

“Yeah, no... kiddin’,” says Natsuki, clearing her throat (and speaking at a less-intense volume, this time). “I don’t think anything else would warrant. That.”

“So I dunno if she’s _always...”_ Sayori’s sentence peters out partially through, accompanied by Yuri’s frown and a bitten lip from Natsuki. _”I don’t know if she’s always this little”,_ paired with a dropsick somebody who had been stubbornly insisting they were Baseline _..._

“... either way, we gotta— _do_ somethin’ with her, right? No f—reakin’ way we’re dropping her off at her house.”

“Of _course_ not!” Sayori replies, aghast, before... pausing.

“... I... I don’t have anything for a Little at my house, though...”

“Me either,” Natsuki says, quickly.

“I don’t believe anyone would think bringing a crying infant to _your_ particular home would be a good idea,” Yuri sighs, “But, lucky for the three of you, we have _my_ house.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Oh, right!” Sayori says, lighting up much more than her pink-haired clubmate at Yuri’s admission. “Thanks, Yuri! Hey, Monika, you hear that? We’re gonna go to Yuri’s house!” Accompanied by a little bounce of her arms.

Monika’s initial frantic sobbing had tapered off, just a bit, during the conversation - sobs becoming intermittent cries, cries becoming hiccuping whimpers - though her face remained firmly pressed into Sayori’s neck and shoulder, quite hidden from view. At Sayori’s cajoling, even the whimpering seemed to fade, a sniffle or two replacing it as Monika’s hand kneaded at a fistful of Sayori’s soft vest.

“That’s right,” hums Yuri, carefully stepping closer as Monika’s crying fades. “That’ll be nice, won’t it? You can come and see my house, have a change of clothes, play with some nice toys...”

Monika sniffles again, then - very cautiously - peeks one watery eye out from where she was stuck like glue to Sayori. _”_

_Oh,”_ Yuri gasps - Natsuki’s eyes widen behind her, hand flying up to clutch at her lapel.

“Oh good _god_ Sayori. I’m gonna keel over.”

Sayori giggles, nuzzling at Monika’s bangs ( ~~trying to ignore the steadily-worsening pang in her sweet Little scent~~ ) as she acts the picture of total innocence. “Huh? What? Gosh, you two look like you just saw the most precious darling baby in the entire _world_ or something!”

“Yeah, and you’re holding her all to yourself,” Natsuki hmphs, crossing her arms.

Yuri, however, just smiles gently before holding out her hands. “Would it be okay,” she says, softly, to the girl cradled in Sayori’s arms, “If I carried you to the car, darling?”

Monika looks at Yuri for what seems like a very long moment, then -

Nods clumsily, reaching out one hand for the taller girl as Yuri _beams._

* * *

Monika feels dizzy.

Not fun dizzy. Being held by Mama was nice, even if she was crying so much, and being held by nice nice big tall (Mommy?) was also very good, and the seat she was sitting in was soft and the straps hugged her tight and felt safe, but, now she was feeling dizzy and strange and she didn’t like that, not at all. She whines in the back of her throat, picking at one of the safe straps - her fingers feel a little bit like they’re not really there, and that makes her whimper again.

“Mm? Baby, what’s wrong?”

Mama’s sitting in the big person seat next to her. Monika sort of remembers being happy about that, feeling safer in a car she didn’t know, but now she doesn’t know what to feel about anything. Her head hurts and she’s dizzy and she _whines,_ kicking her little feet listlessly, and a gentle cool hand presses against her forehead.

Mama makes a soft, worried noise, then gently moves her thumb to rub against Monika’s nose. That feels nice. Mama’s hand is cold and nice and makes Monika feel like she’s being pressed carefully back into her fuzzy maybe-there body, and she sighs a big sleepy sigh, sucking her lower lip into her mouth.

_(“... Yuri, she’s getting **really** warm...”)_

Maybe she just needs a nap. The car is rumbling and Mama’s hand is heavy and gentle and cool and Monika’s eyes are slipping closed, blinking longer and longer.

_(“... how high i...psick fever **supposed** t...ill okay?”)_

Monika tilts her head into Mama’s hand, and lets her eyes go all the way shut.

_(“...o you **me**... suppressant withd... ?”)_


	5. dropsick (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori, Caregiver!Natsuki, Caregiver!Yuri  
> AU?: Classification AU  
> Warnings?: mmmmnope!!

Monika is _sick._

This much is apparent by the time Yuri pulls into her driveway. Poor little (Little) Monika is about as responsive as a sack of flour, nearly as pale, and absolutely _radiating_ heat as Sayori unbuckles and lifts her into her arms again, carrying her carefully into the house. “

... Yuri,” she says, nervously, “How in the world would Monika get suppressants?”

“Not like they’re illegal, or anything,” Natsuki grunts as she kicks off her shoes in the entryway, “But they’re illegal and Monika refuses to _jaywalk an empty street_ on account of ‘it’s illegal, Natsuki!’”

“Striking impression.”

“Thanks. _Plus,”_ she continues, utterly undeterred by Yuri’s sarcastic remark, “The test was less than a month ago, and you only get sh— uhh, you only get bad symptoms from, you know. Extended use.”

“... that’s... no, that’s right,” Yuri says, slowly - evidently lost in thought even as she collects this-thing-and-that from across her bedroom. “Withdrawal symptoms matching this pattern only occur after _years_ of daily usage, and Monika had no idea - no solid _evidence_ until a few weeks ago. Nothing about that adds up.”

“I mean... it _could_ be a badly timed stomach bug, or something...”

“But coming on that quickly?”

Sayori has been very quiet throughout this - mostly hushing Monika when she fussed lightly about being put down for a change in clothes - but neither Yuri nor Natsuki miss the way her silence becomes more... intense, as she buttons up the lavender sleeper that’s slightly-too-big on Monika, dozing fitfully.

“Monika’s... parents,” is what Sayori says, cradling the brown-haired girl protectively. “Monika’s parents are really strict, aren’t they?”

“Monika’s parents?”

“Isn’t her dad the headmaster? Dude’s a total hardass, at least,” Natsuki says. “What about it?”

“... it’s, um. It’s just,” Sayori mutters, “Didn’t the textbook say that Little parents are more likely to... have _really_ Little...”

“... children.” Yuri completes, a look of horror slowly dawning on her face.

“Wait. Wait,” Natsuki says, “You can’t be serious. You’re— you’re trying to say Monika’s parents _spiked her shit with suppressants?”_

“Natsuki.”

“She’s asleep!”

“... I just... don’t think this is, that this is a coincidence.”

A kind of quiet falls over the room, for a moment. Sayori seeming truly _dour_ about something was a troubling occasion, indeed, and for what feels like a long second, the only noise to accompany the pensive atmosphere was Monika’s sickly breathing.

“... well,” Yuri says, softly, “I suppose all we can do about it right now is help her where she _is.”_

Sayori, hearing this, blinks hard - seemingly shaken from her thoughts. “I— you’re right,” she says, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Okay, change of concern, then; Yuri, you handed Sayori a _pull-up,”_ Natsuki gestures to the dozing Little. “Exhibit A: baby.”

“They’re all I _have,”_ Yuri exclaims, defensively, “I already told you, I’m barely Little and a toddler besides. I have _occasional accidents.”_

“Well!” And there was Sayori’s pep, once again slotted near-perfectly in her winning smile. “It fits, and it’ll work until we can get something more appropriate, right?”

“Get something?”

_“We??”_

“You _did_ say your parents left you an allowance for...”

“I— well— yes,” Yuri admits, flushing red. “And this would indeed probably be the best time to use it. She’s going to be dropped for—“

_”_ _Days?”_ Natsuki cuts in. “Yeah. Good thing she picked a long weekend to drop like a rock.”

Sighing, Yuri continues. “... yes. Do you think she’d be okay in the car?”

“Umm,” says Sayori, whom is evidently somewhat thrown with being subtly declared the judge of that. “I— I think so? Hey,” she coos, rather abruptly switching tones from ‘confused teenager’ to ‘loving mama’ to address the vaguely-fussing Little in her arms, “Hey, sweetpea— ohh, sh-sh-shh, you’re okay...”

* * *

Monika is only a little bit less asleep than she had been, but, apparently that was enough less asleep to begin fussing - a miserable little whimper escaping her as clumsy fists came up to rub at her eyes.

Why was she so _warm?_ Why was her head so cloudy? Where had the nice rumbling gone? She could hear Mama making gentle shushy noises, but that wasn’t what she wanted, and she could feel hot tears stinging at her already-sore eyes as her breath hitched in her chest. Everything was so _much_ and it was going to go out of control again and make her cry so loud and—

A—

Mama puts something in her mouth. But Mama is holding her. Where did she get it? It’s soft and fits nicely in her mouth, and she sniffles and without thinking very much about it, her mouth starts to suckle on it.

Nothing very much happens, but Monika is suddenly _relieved._ The big big scary tears building up in her chest whoosh away in one deep, sniffly sigh as she nuzzles into Mama and her cozy safe arms and cozy safe smell, feeling Mama rub her back gently. Happy baby nuzzles.

She’s still too warm, but that’s okay, for now; Mama’s safeness and this nice new suckle-nubby make her feel fuzzy and cozy instead of dizzy and hot, and she relaxes again into her Mama’s hold. Mama is saying something cooey-gooey and nice, and standing up with Monika in her arms, and Monika finds that she doesn’t really care about where she’s going as long as Mama is carrying her there.

Somewhere along the walk, her eyes drift open just enough to see that she’s laying her head on Mama’s shoulder, and she peeks down and sees small and pink and looking at her a little bit protectively. She blinks, slowly, and a happy fizzy of familiarity hums in her chest; so she smiles, as big as she can without letting go of the nice thing in her mouth.

Small and pink and protective smiles back, and Monika feels very content as she resumes her important, all-focus-consuming task of suckling again, sighing as her eyes drift closed once more. By the time she’s in her safe straps and everything is rumbling again, she’s already almost entirely asleep.

* * *

“I think someone might be a little delirious.”

Sayori winces at Natsuki’s announcement, leaning the smallest bit over the push-bar of the shopping cart. Monika’s eyes _were_ open again, suckling languidly on her borrowed pacifier (why Yuri looked so embarrassed over the little rabbit-printed item, Sayori will never know) - but her glassy stare and slow, confused grasping at the air belied the reason she was laying on a blanket in the bottom of a Little supplier’s shopping cart in the first place.

“Oh, baby,” Sayori murmurs, heart aching. “You’re not feeling very good at all, are you?”

A very rhetorical question; Monika seemed to have dropped outside the age range for even _comprehending_ speech somewhere between the clubroom and Yuri’s home, never mind the fever making everything that much more confusing, but Sayori’s soft tone was the more important part. Natsuki frowns, glancing between the baby in the cart and the aisle they were temporarily stalled in a few times.

“... hey, Sayori. You think it’d be fine if...”

“Mm?” Sayori stirs, having been singularly focused on reaching over to stroke Monika’s hand (index finger now being clung to for her efforts), now looks up to see where Natsuki was— _oh._

“Yes— _yeah,”_ she nods, “Yes! Absolutely. Go for it.”

(She doesn’t miss the way Natsuki’s grin widens as she drops to her knees in front of the shelves crammed full of stuffed animals, pulling a handful free from the bungee-banded enclosure.)

“Hey, Monika, lookit!” She hums as she walk-knelt back to the side of the cart, holding up one of the soft toys. Monika blinks slowly as she processes the appearance of both toys _and_ Natsuki’s face in her vision, but her gaze does at least focus a little bit.

“Ehehe, they’re cool, right? Look, look - _wuf, wuf! I’m Peter the puppy!”_

A giggle bubbles out of Monika, then; syrupy and slow, but a happy noise all the same, and Sayori sighs in relief. Yuri could take a little more time finding the baby carseat.

...

Of course, the way this ended was with several soft friends piled into the cart beside a cooing Monika (and one conspicuously gripped in Natsuki’s arms that Sayori, quite frankly, didn’t dare to question), but that could hardly be called an _unfortunate_ outcome.

“I think she likes the turtle the most,” says Natsuki, fondly petting Monika’s cheek with a finger as they stroll through the aisles - the Little one squeaking at the sensation, grasping the aforementioned turtle’s squishy plushy foot.

“Gosh, that’s _adorable,”_ Sayori gushes. “Green _is_ her favorite color, isn’t it?”

“I’d hope so, there’s at _least_ five greenies in here to like, two of any other color—“

_”Very_ important, necessary, unable-to-do-without baby supplies only?” Yuri says, raising an eyebrow, rather suddenly standing at the front of the aisle with crossed arms.

“... oops,” Natsuki coughs.

“We, ah, we— um.” Sayori stammers, glancing from the cart to Yuri to the cart at least three times before spreading her hands with a helpless shrug. “Yes?”

Yuri manages to look very stern for an entire handful of seconds.

“... you three. I can’t leave you alone for ten minutes,” she chides, amusement seeping into her tone as she strides to rejoin the trio. “Isn’t that right, little one, _ten minutes?”_

Monika garbles something behind her pacifier in response to Yuri’s sweet, questioning tone, holding up one stuffed _green_ bird by the leg and giving a content, if quite dazed, smile.

“Hmm? What’s that you’ve got, darling? Is that a birdie?”

“Bbbshh,” Monika agrees, mumbling as Yuri slides a hand onto her hot little forehead.

“Someone’s so warm, aren’t they,” Yuri hums; gently checking the girl’s forehead, under her chin, behind her ears. By the time her slow, methodic hand makes it around twice, Monika’s eyes have fluttered shut, barely murmuring as Yuri nudges the soft plush turtle to nestle against her cheek.

Yuri sighs. “Well, her fever hasn’t gotten _higher,_ at least,” she says, quiet as to encourage the baby to drift back to sleep. “Do you think we should pick up a fever reducer?”

“Eugh, baby Tylenol is so gross,” Natsuki mutters. Sayori pats her shoulder.

“Natsu, it’s a whole baby _store._ We’ll find _something_ that doesn’t taste like past-Halloween Twizzlers and tears.”

“Don’t they make something in orange? Ah, we’ll have to get the little syringe dispenser, she can’t drink out of a cup, can she...”

And Monika, oblivious to the murmurs of the three above her as she snuggles into her new friends, dozes.


	6. where am i? (1/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, implied-through-description Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: Adopted-By-... ambiguous non-human... maybe??? very much shades of nonhumans-own-humans-and-thats-the-way-it-is kind of universe  
> Warnings?: if the above kind of AU squicks you out maaaaybe skip this group of chapters! if you think it's kind of cringe to write fanfiction-in-names-only (i.e. why is monika even in this fic i don't know i never got to the point of justifying it) then DEFINITELY skip this and the next three chapters because uh. oops. if you just want some glurge that might make you feel better abt whatever life is happening rn (which is why i wrote this for me in the first place) then here's the ridiculous fic for you! just idk interpret it however way you like best, honestly mentally substitute the names to whomever you like if you want to this is the wild west theres no laws here

_{The little ones love nesting, don’t they? How come this one doesn’t have any blankets?}_

_{A-Ah...}_

_{_ _Goodness._ Tch-ch-ch— _here, come here, little one, see what I’ve got for you?}_

This is how Monika gets her favorite blanket.

She gets a lot more after - from the big, soft-sunsetty lady with the nice voice - but this one, the first one that she got, is her _favorite_ and goes with her to all four corners of her little room. It’s soft and it’s warm, and one side is snuggly and fuzzy and the other is smooth and pretty with stars and comets and planets and swirly colors all over it, and it’s the best blanket that she has, she thinks, and probably the best blanket in the whole wide world.

The _second_ blanket that she ever got isn’t her favorite blanket, but it is _someone’s_ favorite blanket and the someone is her cuddly plushy puppy friend (with the fuzzy floppy ears and the soft swishy tail). It’s much littler than her blanket, and it’s soft all around and only one color (dark green) and has one little heart drawn in string on the corner, and when her puppy friend gets sleepy she can wrap him up snuggly and tight and warm in it so he can nap and be safe. The nice voice big lady likes to wrap up Monika in her favorite blanket for naps too, and sometimes when she comes by to peer over the edge of Monika’s room she sees Monika holding napping puppy and smiles a lot.

Monika stays in her room, all the time. Trying to remember not-staying in her room makes her head hurt so after awhile she doesn’t try - she has snacks and a soft place to sleep and things to play with on the walls and all on the ground, and her blanket and friend puppy, so she can’t really complain, she thinks. The big big nice tall lady likes to come into Monika’s room a lot, too, and holds her and talks to her (even if nothing she says makes any sense, and she just smiles puzzledly when Monika tries to talk back) and she’s more than happy to carry the blocks when Monika makes towers, which is all very good.

(She carry-sways Monika when it’s time to take a nap, too, wrapped cozy and warm in her blanket, and secretly she thinks nice lady is more than just very good.)

But for some reason, today, nice lady is leaning over the wall of Monika’s room; dangling her arm and hand and fingers down the edge, cooing and curling her fingers in a beckoning manner. Monika, who had been contentedly building a little village since she woke up, has no idea what to make of this and has been staring for the better part of a few minutes, tilting her head.

_{Here, little one, come here! I’ve got a surprise for you - you’ll love it, I’m sure of it!}_

She still has no idea what nice lady is _ever_ trying to say, but she can at least tell that she seems excited about it. Curious, Monika shuffles to her feet, pulling her precious blanket further around her shoulders.

_{Yes, yes! Come here, little one, come here - yes, yes, good, good job!}_

Nice lady is definitely _very_ excited and happy, Monika notes, and she seems even more happy as Monika tip-taps over towards the wall - speeding up as the encouraging coos continue until she’s very nearly running over, smiling curiously up at nice lady as, once Monika is close enough, she strokes the back of Monika’s head, purring happily.

_{Yes, good job, little one! Such a good job. Come, now, up you go!}_

Monika squeaks a little as she’s suddenly scooped up into the air - heart pounding for a moment before she’s cradled against the nice lady’s chest, a very familiar position by now and one she relaxes into easily.

... although, she realizes - something is different. She’s not inside her room!

Clutching her blanket, she carefully peers over nice lady’s shoulder, curiosity winning over her instinct to snuggle limply into nice lady’s arms and wait to see wherever she wanted to take her. The ground over here, she notes, looks much different; inside her room, there’s a pattern of soft, pink and white squares, but out here there’s just solid gray-blue that looks a little bit shiny - and very cold for feet, she thinks, toes curling inward with a shiver.

There are other rooms around, too, but for some reason she can’t see anything inside them - they just seem to be... _there,_ as nice lady walks past them, apparently unconcerned with whatever or whomever might be inside. Does that maybe mean that Monika is nice lady’s _favorite?_ She wonders, a little thrill rushing through her heart at the thought. She didn’t think about that before, but now she thinks she _hopes_ that she’s nice lady’s favorite, whatever sort of favorite she may be. Nice lady, she thinks, certainly is _her_ favorite - and she sinks back down into her arms, curiosity momentarily sated as she pillows her head against the soft, light pink collar of nice lady’s shirt.

_{Sweet little one,}_ nice lady hums, stroking Monika’s cheek lovingly with the curve of her finger before gently pressing the very tip of her nose. _{I think you’re going to love your little b-a-t-h, hm? You’re going to get so nice and clean and rosy, aren’t you?}_

(Monika still can’t understand, but the way nice lady smiles at her, warm and kind, makes her think that maybe that’s... okay.)


	7. where am i? (2/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, implied-through-description Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: Adopted-By-... ambiguous non-human... maybe??? very much shades of nonhumans-own-humans-and-thats-the-way-it-is kind of universe  
> Warnings?: see previous; if the above kind of AU squicks you out maaaaybe skip this group of chapters!

**{You’ve been very good today, haven’t you?}**

Monika is snuggled up warm in her soft little nest, sleepy and yawning and feeling very dozy indeed. All the business with the bath had been yesterday, or, at least before the last long sleep she had, but she still somehow felt a bit cozy from the warm water and nice-smelling soap anyway.

Monika is snuggling with her puppy friend, fingers absentmindedly rubbing at the fuzziness of his ears, and only really halfway listening to what he’s saying. She likes it when puppy friend talks to her, because he talks to her heart and not through her ears, and even though it’s so much different than her voice and her words she can _understand_ him and that makes her feel safe. And today she’s feeling very safe, and very cozy, so she’s listening the most with her heart and barely at all with her head, lazily looking out at her brightly-lit little world from within her warm pile of blankets and pillows and softness.

**{It’s nice that you’ve been doing so good. I’m very glad about that.}**

“Mm,” Monika nods, humming agreement and nuzzling her forehead against the top of his furry head.

**{Do you think tomorrow will be good as well? I think so. I think you’ll be good, and tomorrow will be good. I think so.}**

“Mm...”

**{Good.}**

“Good,” Monika mumbles, tracing one of the spots on his back with most of the focus she could muster, at the moment. She liked her puppy friend. He said nice things and he said calm things, and he made her feel so much better when she was sad and sleepy and didn’t know what to do, and he was very very—

**{Good.}**

“Good,” Monika parrots, completing her gently meandering train of thought. Yes. Her puppy friend was wonderful and fluffy-fuzzy and—

**{Good.}**

“{Good.}” Says _Monika -_ who stiffens for a moment in surprise.

**{Oh!}** says puppy, happily, **{Good!}**

“... {good?}” Monika tries again, eyes widening in wonderment at the strange way the word feels on her tongue and the knowledge of what it _means,_ that she knows what one of the new sounds _means!_ “{G-Good. Good!}”

**{Yes! Yes, yes, yes,}** cheers puppy, and even though he can’t wiggle in excitement, Monika imagines he is anyway and squeezes him very tightly. **{You did it!** Good **job,** good **job!}**

“{Good} job!” Monika parrots again, mumbling happily to herself as she hugs her puppy friend, rolling over and wriggling further into her snuggly nest of blankets. “{Good} job, {good} job...”

**{You’re so** good, **}** says puppy, speaking softly to her heart again, warm and fuzzy as Monika yawns. **{You’re so** good **and sweet and smart and small and wonderful, and I love you.}**

Monika murmurs something to that effect into the fur on top of puppy’s head, eyes closed in drowsy contentment, and puppy friend hums and laughs a little bit, maybe.

**{And, I think, sleepy...}**

“S... sleepy,” Monika agrees, in barely more than a whisper, before she’s already lost in her dreams.

* * *

_{Ah!_ Good _morning, little one,}_

“{Good! Good, good,} hello hello hello! I’m {good,} I’m {good} I’m {good} I’m {good} I love you!”

_{Oh—! Did - did you say_ good, _little one—?}_

“{Good!} I know {good,} I know {good!} I’m, I’m {good} and you’re {good} and and and—“

_{Oh,_ good _ness, don’t you just have the most adorable little peeps! Come here, sweet one, be still for one moment - yes, there you go, little one...}_

“I love you,” Monika announces again with a happy little wiggle - soft though the announcement was, what with her face buried in nice lady’s shirt. “You’re {good} and nice and the best and I love you.”

Nice lady coos a lot more gentle things, stroking the back of Monika’s head as she holds her, and sometimes the gentle things have the word _good_ in them and it sends a jolt of happiness and excitement and longing and amazement all down Monika’s back, making her shiver and wiggle and smile. She hopes nice lady is saying it because of her, because _she’s_ good, because nice lady thinks she’s good and what she’s doing is good, because she’s good and sweet and smart and small and wonderful, she wants nice lady to think she’s good _so much_ it makes her heart jump funny inside - _so much._ Monika thinks that maybe if nice lady thinks she’s good she’ll be happy forever and ever and ever and ever and _ever._

(Monika notices - and doesn’t-notices, at the same time - that nice lady stays with her, today, from when she wakes up, to her snacks, to her naptime, to her playtime, until nice lady sings her back down to a cozy, long, sleep.)


	8. where am i? (3/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, implied-through-description Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: Adopted-By-... ambiguous non-human... maybe??? very much shades of nonhumans-own-humans-and-thats-the-way-it-is kind of universe  
> Warnings?: see previous; if the above kind of AU squicks you out maaaaybe skip this group of chapters! 
> 
> sickfic edition?? if you can't tell i really truly just wrote everything that made me personally feel soothed. like if it was not immediately apparent this fic is for me but you can read it if you want

_{Oh, little one... come now, say ‘aah’.}_

Monika is _not_ opening her mouth.

Today, Monika feels very dizzy, too-warm and very very unwell. Yesterday (maybe, she thinks, because now that she thinks about it she can’t _tell_ if it was yesterday or even longer than yesterday) Monika was feeling much worse, but today she still doesn’t feel much better.

She had been crying a lot yesterday, that she _does_ remember, because her eyes are still all tired from it on top of her whole body being all tired from everything anyway. She was still crying a lot today, actually, but it wasn’t the loud kind, it was the kind where she stared tiredly up at nice lady while she swayed in her lap and thought very hard about maybe being rocked for another nap again but nice lady _isn’t_ because nice lady is trying to get Monika to open her mouth, which Monika sullenly is not doing. Monika is too sick to be good, she thinks, and miserably rubs her face against her very newest blanket of all (which is just one of nice lady’s shirts that Monika thinks she didn’t want to let go of yesterday, and now she thinks she _really_ doesn’t want to let go of it).

_{Please, little one?}_

Nice lady is trying to get Monika to drink out of something, and Monika does not want to. Monika is _smart_ and she knows exactly what gets put in your mouth when you’re sick: icky colorful syrupy grossness. And Monika has _seen_ what’s inside the container nice lady is holding, and it’s not only colorful (or, at least not water colored), it’s _glittery!_ Whatever it is, its probably gross and she doesn’t want it and maybe if she keeps sniffling and snuggling her shirt-blanket and looking as pitiful as she feels up at nice lady, then nice lady will realize Monika knows it’s gross syrup already and will stop trying to trick her by sounding so happy about it.

Nice lady sighs, after a moment, and looks away.

_{... you poor little thing... this must be so frustrating...}_

Monika is... tired. Monika is tired and rather grumpy, now that she thinks about it, and Monika wants a snuggle and a nap, and she - she’s going to get those things, she decides, whether nice lady likes it or not, because Monika is _sick_ and doesn’t that mean she gets special nap privileges? Seeing how nice lady is preoccupied with staring off into space, now, Monika takes this opportunity to flop down in her lap, squirming herself into the most comfortable laying down position she can find and closing her eyes for a moment. She’ll just have a nap, and then nice lady will realize she’s so sleepy and tired and needs a nap and will let her sleep and won’t—

Nice lady’s finger prods gently at Monika’s lips, and Monika is so confused that she opens her mouth for it as her eyes flutter awake, looking up at nice lady with nothing less than utter confusion - until something _nice_ spreads across her tongue.

She isn’t quite sure how to _describe_ it, furrowing her brow in thought as her mouth moved to suckle the substance off nice lady’s finger without her input. It _tasted_ warm, like her mouth was full of sunshine, but it didn’t make her feel hot and sick and miserable. It tasted sweet, but it didn’t make her tummy feel twisty, and it tasted a little sparkly but it didn’t make her nose or her throat hurt. She doesn’t know _what_ it is...

... but it’s not _icky,_ she concludes, finally releasing nice lady’s finger. It doesn’t taste like gross syrups do at all.

_{There, see? It’s not bad, is it, little one?}_

Monika does eye what nice lady holds up with a cajoling coo - a bottle - dubiously, for a moment, because she’s sick and grouchy and thinks it’s the right thing to do.

... but it was _yummy,_ in the strangest way, so Monika sighs and squirms and opens her mouth like a baby bird, to nice lady’s delight. She isn’t paying very much attention once the soft bit is in her mouth; she has a blanket to cuddle and warm nice lady to curl up against, and yummy i-dunno-what to suckle on and a nap to be taken, but the word floats over her head, her _favorite_ word (her only word) and somewhere in her heart she wishes it’s about her, that maybe nice lady was talking about her...

_{There’s a_ good _little one, there you go. It’s_ good, _isn’t it? Mm?}_

Nice lady gently pokes the tip of her nose, strokes thumb fondly over her forehead.

_{Mmhm, it is. You should be happy and healthy again very soon,}_ she croons. _{You’ve been so_ good, _little one, I’ll be so happy to see you well again...}_

Monika sighs heavily, leaning into nice lady’s touch and sinking into a dazed dream.

_{Sleep sweetly and soundly, little star.}_

(She does.)


	9. where am i? (4/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, implied-through-description Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: Adopted-By-... ambiguous non-human... maybe??? very much shades of nonhumans-own-humans-and-thats-the-way-it-is kind of universe  
> Warnings?: see previous; if the above kind of AU squicks you out maaaaybe skip this group of chapters! so sorry that you've had to see this, truly

_{... well, nobody can quite say that you’ve done your job... **incorrectly**...}_

_{I— I swear I didn’t mean to—}_

_{... regardless of what was meant, the issue is still present.}_

_{... I’m sorry.}_

_{Sorry is all well and good - are you willing to take **responsibility** for your accidental error?}_

Monika is not having a very good day today.

Which is why, currently, she is hiding under her favorite blanket - curled around her puppy and pushing her face into her once-t-shirt lovey - and shuddering quite a bit. Today was— today wasn’t just _not very good,_ today was _awful._ It was awful and terrible and scary and worst of all, she thinks miserably, nice lady isn’t here with her. Nice lady came in the morning and gave her a pat and then the entire bad awful day started when she _left,_ and now Monika thinks she can barely hear her voice murmuring outside her room but there’s another voice too and it sounds upset and like maybe nice lady is in trouble which makes Monika want to cry even though she already is.

Is it her fault nice lady is in trouble?

Monika didn’t mean to get anybody in trouble, especially not nice lady who was so nice and warm and big and perfect - things were just so _bad_ today!

There were so many big people, all of a sudden, making so much _noise_ and sticking their arms in her room and some of them even came _inside_ and Monika didn’t know _what_ to do. They grabbed at her and touched her arms and face and back when she got too close to the walls, and they made weird noises at her, and they said _good_ so many times that she almost didn’t like that word anymore and it was all so so _so_ much that when another one had stepped in and reached for her _puppy_ she just couldn’t take it anymore and she’d _cried._

Very, very, very loudly.

Everybody seemed to go away very fast after that, which was at least a little bit of an improvement, but she was still _crying_ and _scared_ and one person had _still_ tried to grab at her so she’d had to crawl away to her blankets and hide before they went away too, and left Monika all alone in her tiny nest, shivering and sobbing and afraid. Things had been quiet for her for a long time afterwards, with nobody coming to her room at _all,_ no scary big people to grab at her and make her cry more and no nice big lady to cuddle her and make her feel safe, and she wonders if crying and being scared was _bad_ and now nice lady was disappointed in her, and now maybe she wasn’t nice lady’s favorite and maybe she wasn’t good and maybe nice lady wasn’t going to come back and—

Monika cries for a very long time, like the first things she can remember in this room and like when she woke up sick and achy, and she _tries_ to calm herself down; she curls up under her blankets, and she hugs her puppy, and she nuzzles her nice-lady’s-shirt-lovey, and she even nibbles then chews then suckles on her thumb, but she still feels so scared and so sad and she keeps shivering, keeps crying anyway, even if it’s quieter now.

And now, _now,_ now that she hears nice lady getting in trouble, she’s so tired and so so so _sad_ that she thinks maybe she’ll never ever be able to stop crying again. What if nice lady doesn’t get to come inside and see Monika anymore? What if Monika never sees her again? What if all the people come back and keep being noisy and touching her and being scary forever and ever and ever, Monika doesn’t _like_ that, Monika doesn’t, she just wants—

She just wants—

She just _wants—_

She hears somebody stepping into the room, and hears them clear their throat a little bit, and hears

_{... l-little one... ? Little star, p-please come out...}_

Hears _nice lady,_

And she works her way out of her blankets so fast, runs so fast that she _trips_ and falls flat on her belly and still gets up and runs all the way to nice lady before she can even say anything else and desperately desperately desperately thrusts her hands up into the air, even though one of them is a little wet and she’s still crying and maybe nice lady doesn’t want her anymore but, but,

“U—U-Uh- _Uh-ppyyyyy!_ P—Pl-Ple, ease,”

_{Oh, little one—!}_

All, all, all the horrible scaries in Monika’s heart go away when nice lady scoops Monika up into her arms, hushing her sweetly as she gently strokes her hair, rocks her from side to side, everything, everything, _everything_ is okay. Nice lady came back, and nice lady is holding her, and everything is okay now, okay, okay, okay.

(A word settles in Monika’s heart, but she doesn’t know it yet.)

Nice lady - wiping away Monika’s messy tears, helping tidy her room, humming soothing songs and holding her snacks and her bottle and her blocks and _her_ \- stays for the rest of the day.

(Monika loves her so much that she thinks her heart might burst - what else can she do but let her sing her to sleep?)


	10. apple rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hysterically, considering how fixated i am on little monika, my FIRST work of this nature was actually about yuri. how the turned tables
> 
> roles?: little!yuri, (bewildered)caregiver!natsuki  
> au?: not-a-game, polyclub  
> warnings?: natsuki does swear a bunch in her internal monologue as always

_[to: 📝 frickin Monika 💚]_

[Natsuki]: hey??? moni???

[Natsuki]: HEY

[Natsuki]: FUCKERRR 

[Natsuki]: ugh your phones off isn’t it

[Natsuki]: worth a shot

[Natsuki]: you better hurry up and get your ass home after that dumb movie date because yuri’s like

[Natsuki]: i don’t even know??? i seriously don’t even fucking know what’s going on ggggggggggghhh

[Natsuki]: MAKE YOUR MOVIE GO FASTTER

[Natsuki]: i can’t believe im cutting a apple rabbit for a grown woman

* * *

This is not an exaggeration.

Natsuki really can’t believe she’s cutting an apple rabbit for a grown woman. 

She actually doesn’t know the last time _she_ had one of these. ... granted, it’s not like she had someone around to do it, but this was... primary school fare. _Primary school._

And _Yuri_ asked for it.

That was almost harder to wrap her head around than the ridiculous snack, and Natsuki shakes her head, sighing deeply as she sets the knife down on the cutting board, placing the last little apple-quarter down on the plate beside her, nudging its nose up against the three others already there.

Even if it was stupidly juvenile, Natsuki never was one to ignore the presentation. 

“Yuyu?” 

Yuri was...

... Yuri... _had_ been sitting at the kitchen table, when Natsuki had turned barely out of sight to the fruit bowl and the knife block - however, that was clearly no longer the case, as there was nobody at the table and, slightly more worrisome, no response to her call, either. 

_Maybe she went back upstairs to read... ?_ Natsuki thinks, before shaking her head lightly - no, the book she’d been poring over was still on the sofa, with Yuri quite notably nowhere to be found.

“Yuyu?” Natsuki calls again, a little louder. Definitely not worried. Why would she be worried? She’s talking about _Yuri._ She’s lived here for a year and a half, and she’s _fine,_ and she’s probably back upstairs with her nose stuck back in The Crawling Chaos instead of - Natsuki still feels disbelieving, even after looking at the cover for the seventieth time - _Fairy Idol Kanon,_ which Natsuki had to dig out of the back of her manga shelf.

Manga shelf.

Yuri had, _legitimately,_ asked for a fucking— _pink comic book about a_ **_singing fairy_ ** and not only had she been _reading_ it, Natsuki realizes, looking at where the page had been marked with the edge of a couch blanket, she was barely a third of the way through it. Yuri. Yuri, the woman who tore through books like they were the fuel to a 180-horsepower-engine in her soul, had taken _forty-five minutes_ to read _a third_ of a children’s manga.

Maybe Natsuki was a little worried about Yuri.

“Hey, Yuri!” She says - maybe a little louder than she had to, but Yuri was _somewhere_ in this house, wasn’t she? “Come on, this— it’s not funny anymore! Just quit messing around already and—“

“N-Na’skiiiiiii!”

Natsuki stares down the hall in the direction of the bathroom door, where - _now_ \- she notices a little light in the crack beneath the door, hears a trickle of water running.

Hears Yuri whimpering.

Hears Yuri _slurring her name._

“N, N, _Na’skiii,”_ a hiccup, “I n, I n-need, n-need a, ban’aid,”

* * *

...

It started with an argument.

Actually, it started with Monika and Sayori taking the evening to go to a movie marathon at the local theater. The lineup was sappy to a _fault,_ and as much as Natsuki could get behind five hours of casual back-row cuddling, she couldn’t reconcile that with five hours of watching the same damn star-crossed lovers suck face on a twenty-five-foot screen. Yuri, she was pretty certain, had about the same kind of reservations there, and so Monika and Sayori had a movie marathon date with the provisional caveat of bringing back popcorn, cookie dough bites, and way better makeouts than any dumbass actor could pretend to engage in. They’d promised, and left.

Natsuki and Yuri... argue. Not really as much as they had in high school, but - you know - differences are differences, defensive tendencies are defensive tendencies, impulsive blurtouts are impulsive blurtouts and, plainly put, they argue. About... about a lot of things. They don’t mean to argue, and they don’t mean to get heated, and Natsuki can count on one finger the amount of arguments they’d had with any vitriol that lasted over a day. They argued. It happened. 

But usually, Monika or Sayori (or both) were around to follow a stormy Natsuki into her room or hold a shuddering Yuri and de-escalate the situation... much quicker than the natural flow of things. Unfortunately for today, Monika and Sayori were 40 minutes into Love Actually, and Natsuki was 30 minutes into boring a hole through her bedroom wall with her eyes before she finally threw her head back with a groan.

 _God,_ why did she have to be so fucking... prickly. 

The argument was stupid - and she knew that. Her sore pride was fucking stupid - and she knew that. She knew that she should probably apologize or at _least_ go check on Yuri because she takes these things harder and, _god_ why did she have to be so prickly, why.

What Natsuki is expecting by the time she extracts herself from the bedroom, takes a deep breath, and heads back to the sitting room, is Yuri on the couch - Natsuki moves to burn steam and sequester herself physically, whereas Yuri tends to stay put, curling in on herself, emotionally speaking. It at least meant they weren’t up in each other’s business when they were meant to be cooling off; Natsuki just saw it as yet another one of those ridiculous polar opposites that, according to all sappy romance movies, attracted.

“H-Hey, Yuri. Listen, I’m really—” she says, moving to sit carefully on the sofa beside Yuri - still there, as expected - but... 

“... sorry?”

That shouldn’t really have come out as a question, but there’s not much else she can do - she just noticed the way that Yuri is sitting, with her knees crunched up to her face and feet tucked together on the couch cushion and, it’s just surprising enough to cause the sudden confused lilt. It’s not... the most demure way to be seated, for certain, and it’s a bit... out of the ordinary, for a woman who usually hides her face in a hand or even just lets her curtains of violet hair conceal her. 

“... um... Yuri? I - uh - I mean it, I’m sorry. That was... way out of line, and I apologize.”

Natsuki continues anyway - no reason to suddenly _withhold_ a sincere apology because Yuri was sitting weirdly. But then she’d reached out a hand to pat Yuri’s shoulder, a very regular kind of action, and Yuri—

“S-S-Sor-r-ry,”

Is, crying. Yuri is crying. Natsuki blinks, because - she didn’t... think this was, something bad enough to cry over, but - but _Yuri_ did, clearly, and even if Natsuki was surprised and, frankly, somewhat concerned,

“Yuri— Yuri, it’s, it’s fine, okay? You,”

“A-Ar-e yo-u, m, ma-ad at m-me,”

... eh?

“P-Pleas-e don’t b-be m-ma-d, I’m— I’m s-sorr-ry-y,”

“Wh— huh? I, no, Yuri, I’m not mad, I’m— I’m out here apologizing for a reason, you know!” Natsuki says, hurriedly - why in the world was Yuri so upset over this? _Embarrassed,_ maybe _shy,_ but never _whimpering_ like this. Natsuki considers that maybe it’s because nobody else was around to help cool things off and feels rather guilty, for a moment.

“... y-yo-u... yo, u p-prom-mi-se?”

“Uh... yeah, Yuri, I promise. _Swear_ to it,” Nods the pink-haired girl, smiling a little. “C’mon, Yu, there’s seriously no reason to be crying. Getting one of those mood-swingy days, or what?”

“...”

That garners a... surprising lack of reaction from Yuri, in the vocal sense - she does at least unfold her legs, though, now looking at the floor and twisting her feet together as she wipes at her eyes with the heels of her fists.

“S-Sorry,”

“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it!” Natsuki says, trying to sound slightly more confident than she feels. “Listen, I’m gonna make something to eat. I’m like, starved, and we’ll both probably feel better after getting to eat something, right?”

“... nn-hn...”

“... right! So, I’ll go do that. Uh.” Hesitates for a moment. “Listen, though, um. Do you need a hug, or something? I know Monika’s not here, and like, she usually... I dunno... I just, here, okay, would you feel better if I gave you a hug? R-Right now?”

Yuri stares for just long enough (that Natsuki starts to feel like she’d said something rather dumb) before - smiling, thank goodness, nodding and—

“Mmph! Ah— uh— o-okay!”

 _Dragging_ Natsuki down into a hug.

The rest of the evening, thus far - _Fairy Idol Kanon_ and all - had proceeded from there.

...

* * *

“Jesus, Yuri, are you oka—“

Natsuki slides open the bathroom door to see... a...

... an incredibly surprising lack of anything immediately panic-worthy. There’s the faucet running quietly, and one of the short bathroom stools placed under the base of the sink (for what reason, Natsuki can’t fathom), and there’s...

Yuri, standing knock-kneed in the middle of the room, face red and in tears and with her sleeves half-slipped down her arms revealing, well. What’s... been there for as long as Natsuki’s known her, really. Nothing is bleeding, and nothing is even particularly new, and yet Yuri is _crying_ about it. Very openly. 

“You,” says Natsuki, “You... need a. Band-Aid.”

Yuri nods with a whimper and Natsuki can just about feel her sanity pack its bags and take its sweet leave out the window, but she takes a deep breath in, and out, and says,

“... yeah. Okay. A band-aid,” Natsuki repeats, walking over to the cabinet that’s— literally _right there_ behind her, fishing out the box, popping open the cardboard. “Where do you need a band-aid.”

“... u... u-um...” Mumbled, looking down vaguely between long-since scarred arms, breathing accelerating and,

“All of it? All of it— Really. No- no, okay, that’s fine,” Natsuki hurriedly appends, holding up a hand placatingly as Yuri looks like she might start crying louder and _whatever_ was going on right now, that wasn’t ideal. “It’s fine. I just need to know how many of these to use, that’s all, it’s fine, Yuri. Just... sit down, and let me—“

Yuri is curling her arms in towards her chest, and Natsuki doesn’t quite resist the urge to blow out a breath in frustration.

“What?”

“... I...”

_”What?”_

“I— I wan’ the c-cat ba, an’-aids,”

Natsuki stares.

“... you want the cat band-aids.”

Yuri nods, and Natsuki presses her forehead into the heel of her hand.

“Oh my _god,_ Yuri - what, are you _five?”_

... silence.

That is not a place where Natsuki particularly wants to hear silence.

“Yuri.” Natsuki says, again, head still down, “You’re not saying anything.”

“S-Sor-ry, N— Na’ski-i-i,” Yuri hiccups, voice breaking into weak cries again, and Natsuki’s head sinks lower still into her palm.

* * *

Yuyu is about five years old, which explains a startling amount about the apples, and the choice in books, the easy tears and the mild speech impediment and the 23 _Sanrio Chococat_ band-aids freshly stuck to the insides of her arms. What Natsuki really wants is an explanation as to _why Yuri is Yuyu,_ but alas - that explanation is something she feels like she’s going to have to wait for until the return of her two other girlfriends. 

Which is why Natsuki’s eating a cup noodle while Yuyu is nibbling at an apple rabbit. The whole eating process would probably be going faster if she wasn’t trying to also _read_ at the same time, Natsuki notes, but despite her...

_(“Oh, c’mon, no books at the—“)_

_(“N-nnnnn!”)_

... best efforts, Yuyu seemed very insistent on being as distracted as possible from eating. 

_Are kids honestly like this?_ Natsuki wonders, huffing slightly into her microwaved ramen - she can barely remember the last time she babysat at all, much less for a kindergartener and _very, very_ much less for her grown-ass girlfriend who was, for completely unclear reasons, almost totally mimicking a kindergartener. _Cats are way easier to deal with._

... well, okay, Natsuki acknowledges to herself (eyes flickering somewhat guiltily to the refrigerator), maybe _certain_ cats weren’t much easier to deal with. But at least they didn’t cry. They complained, bitterly, like sane people.

* * *

“You’re sure you don’t want a movie?”

Yuri shakes her head again, and Natsuki bites at the inside of her lip, casting a pleading glance back at the television.

“A— _game?_ You could play, um. Mario? Here, I can turn it on for yo—“

“N-nnnnn!”

“Or not,” sighs Natsuki, quickly pulling her hand away from the console shelf and holding it up in the air. “Alright. Okay. No games.” 

She doesn’t really even have to look behind her to know the kind of look Yuri’s giving her, which is just as well, because she’s not sure if she’s going to be able to stick to her guns if she catches a faceful of _that_ look that, somehow, sometime, somewhere, Yuri had found the time to perfect. 

“... I’m not,” she says, slowly, “Going to read out loud, Yuri.” 

Silence, aside from a general shuffling noise on the couch. 

“And you know why I’m not going to.” Releases a breath - yeah, see, she can do this. Put her foot down. “And I _know_ you know that, and so, I’m _not,_ going to—“

Then Natsuki makes the mistake of feeling confident, and turning around, and having to look at Yuri in _fucking_ fleece rabbit pajamas, covered in Chococat band-aids, with slightly teary eyes and balled fists and oh _god,_ what kind of pushover was Natsuki, really, what kind of absolute pushover—

“P... P-Please... ?”

Natsuki makes the only sensible, rational, adult decision possible in this situation.

She sits on the couch and she reads the damn book out loud.

(Yuri probably wouldn’t have judged her slowness, the stutters, the occasional complete wrong word; even if she _didn’t_ have a finger in her own mouth, nodding peacefully on Natsuki’s shoulder.)

* * *

_[to: 🎀 heelies > feelies 💖] _

[Natsuki]: for fucks sake guys quit sucking face in the parking lot and come home im like 700% sure your edgy girlfriend has a fuckign concussion

[Natsuki]: also she’s fucking heavy and she SLEEPS LIKE THE DEAD

...

_[to: 📕 parasyte and chill 💜]_

[Natsuki sent 1 attachment: 2521252138114.jpg]

[Natsuki]: you better have a great frickin story for me when you get up tomorrow

[Natsuki]: or im so changing your contact to ‘hamtaro and chill’

* * *

“You guys better have some fu— flippin’ answers,” hisses Natsuki, pinned near-entirely save her head and right arm beneath a sleeping Yuri on the couch and now glaring broadly at Monika and Sayori, who have just entered the living room in various states of mortified shock and doubled-over amusement.

No two guesses on which of the pair was which.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh. I see how it is,” Natsuki huffs, almost silently, _”Eeeeeverybody_ has to know about _Cupcake,_ but _Yuyu-chan_ is a federal secret. Of _course.”_

“N-Natsuki—“

“Can whichever one of you is _nee-nee_ just put her in her room? I’ll close my eyes. I won’t even look. Your secret identity will be forever obscured from my knowledge.”

Monika mutters something around two hands clasped against her face probably too tight to breathe around, red to the tips of her ears, as Sayori finally loses the strength in her knees and sinks to the carpet below.

“... guys, I’m serious. Guys. _Hey—“_

An exasperated, very quiet noise.

 _”Please!_ She’s been drooling on my shirt for like, twenty minutes!”

As far as Natsuki’s concerned, the fact that Yuri still doesn’t wake up even after Sayori loses out to the _torrent_ of laughter she’d been biting back is just further proof to her thesis that there is, in fact, no God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the middle is quite awkwardly paced because much like little monika, this fic is Two Years Old which means, unlike little monika, my brain refuses to expand upon it anymore. on the bright side you can see a bunch of concepts i later refined and used again in my further characterizations of little yuri!


	11. hush (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Yuri, Little!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori & Caregiver!Natsuki mentioned  
> AU?: regular ol' people au, a timeline i tried out a bit before settling into my preferred one  
> Warnings?: monnie is a bit sad and quiet in this and the next

Yuyu had absolutely no idea what to do with her... cousin?

No, she thinks, poking the round cap of her marker into her cheek in concentration, that didn’t work. Na’ski-nee and Sasasa weren’t nee-nees to each _other._ Little sister, also, didn’t work, for similar reasons... she thinks. Maybe? She didn’t even know how old Monika was, anyway. Maybe she _was_ older than four-or-five, even though she didn’t say things or walk very-much-or-at-all. Well. Probably not, but Na’ski-nee says it’s good to be open to lots of possibilities. Usually she says it when Yuyu doesn’t want to try new dinner, though.

Yuyu doesn’t really know what to call small Monika, but that’s probably okay; the important part is that Yuyu-chan loves her, a lot, even if she’s quiet and likes to sit still, and even if Yuyu isn’t sure how to play with somebody who doesn’t really want to do, um, anything. Like... _anything._ So far, Yuyu has tried blocks (no reaction to buildings and a tiny startled flinch at the loudness of it), and Yuyu has tried stuffed animals (Monika was more interested in clutching her own blue turtle to her chest than playing very much with Yuyu’s bunny), and Yuyu has tried coloring, and even though she did manage to get Monika to hold a green marker, she did not do very much with it besides holding it. She didn’t even bite on the cap, which Yuyu admits is nice and she maybe has done many times while particularly absorbed in coloring and without any paci.

None of this was particularly frustrating, just a little... odd, really. Yuyu doesn’t think she has ever seen anybody sit in one spot for such a long time, not doing... _anything._ Just sitting, face half-buried in soft fluffy turtle shell and knees, watching Yuyu very carefully and watching the floor when Yuyu accidentally turned her head enough that Monika saw Yuyu saw Monika watching.

Yuyu says “it’s okay to use the marker”, except it comes out a lot more like “ith otay t’ us’a makuw” - mostly on account of the soft rubber in her mouth, which she tends to forget about until she tries to talk around it, and so after tugging it out and repeating herself, “i’s otay to us’a ma’kew”. Not even the clearer pronunciation motivates Monika to move, though, to which Yuyu tilts her head and thinks and finally shrugs her shoulders. She supposes that Monika just doesn’t really want to color either, for reasons unbeknownst to Yuyu and not much on her mind. Deciding to leave the book she’d left for Monika where it was - just in case - Yuyu gives her picture one last once-over (very purple and pink), closes her own book, and rests her chin on her bunny to try and think, again, of what in the world Monika would like to do.

Since moving around was definitely off the table, she was sort of running into a dead end. Besides blocks and stuffed animals and coloring, she wasn’t sure what else there _was_ to do in just one place - or, at least, what there was to do in one place that didn’t involve Yuyu going back to her and Na’ski-nee’s room to find something else, because the last time she tried to leave Monika didn’t _move,_ but she did make some very small and very sad noises, and Yuyu really really doesn’t want Monika to be sad, so she stayed put. Yuyu thinks and thinks and thinks about something to do until her gaze lands on the colorful, chunky tape-player on the television shelf.

Television! That didn’t need any moving to do. Even though Yuyu maybe, a little bit, already _had_ her morning television hour, she was pretty sure it was okay because Monika was visiting and she just wanted to do something nice that Monika could also do, which is exactly how Yuyu is merrily sorting through her box of video-tapes until she finds the one that she thinks would be perfect and _not_ just because it was her favorite tape in the box.

“‘Amha!”

She announces, proudly, holding up the tape to a generally blank Monika before she remembers, blocked mouth, and tries again: “Hamha!” Much better. Monika was still blank, but, so far Yuyu has discerned that that was just how she always looked, and besides, she probably never heard of Hamha before, either. Yuyu is a smart girl, and of course well-versed in starting her favorite show; pushing the tape into the player, pressing the ‘on’ button on the front of the stout, round television, and somewhat clumsily handling the player remote into cooperating.

“Wa’ch Hamha wif’ me,” she says to Monika, beaming with her very most winningest smile that could get Na’ski-nee to do _anything,_ and patting the rug next to her with an open hand, pulling yellow blanket up her legs in what she thinks is a very friendly and snuggly and inviting manner.

Monika stays put, but Yuyu doesn’t have a lot of time to feel disappointed, because,

_Tottoko hashiru yo Hamutaro!_

There is not a lot of room for feeling disappointed when there is _Hamtaro_ to be watched.

* * *

It’s about halfway through the episode when Yuyu feels a tiny bit warmer on one side than the other, and that is how she discovers that Monika decided to come and sit with her after all.

She might have been more curious about why it took so long, but this was a good part and she was very very glad that Monika was here at all, so Yuyu just hums and slides the other half of the yellow blanket over Monika’s legs and absentmindedly half-asks and half-says “‘s good”, and she doesn’t glance over again until the episode is winding into the ending song, which Yuyu knows many times over, and that is when she sees Monika basically eating her own hand.

She probably isn’t hungry, because she looks _completely_ absorbed in the television, but Yuyu tilts her head anyway - she did hear Sasasa saying something about Monika’s hands earlier, and Na’ski-nee always tells Yuyu to not suck on her hands because _’c’mon, bun, you’ll get germs’,_ which means sick, and Yuyu doesn’t want Monika to get sick.

But Monika doesn’t look so _nervous,_ with half her hand in her mouth, and Yuyu thinks maybe it’s making her feel better - about what, she doesn’t know - and so, taking this into account, she decides on what to do.

Which is lightly tugging down Monika’s hand, and replacing it with her own purple-shielded soother.

This... mostly seems to surprise Monika. A lot, because her mouth isn’t moving and her eyes got a little bit wider, and her dry hand and her messy hand both were curling up worriedly, but Yuyu smiles and says “i’s otay!” before Monika starts making sad noises, and this surprises her again so she’s all quiet while Yuyu giggles and pushes gently on the bunny-blazoned button and continues, “'t suck on. I’s otay,” to which Monika sits very still and... does. A little hesitantly, and then Yuyu beams and nods happily and pats Monika’s knee and the next episode of Hamha is playing, and Monika’s mouth moves much more automatic while she’s completely otherwise occupied with watching it.

* * *

Yuyu giggles a little again, somewhere in the fourth episode (she is definitely much past all her television time for today, but Na’ski-nee and Sasasa haven’t come to say no more yet, and Yuyu is happy watching with Monika and doesn’t want to turn it off anyway) - something has occurred to her, and she picks up the yellow blanket over their laps, not much disturbing utterly entranced Monika until Yuyu resettles the blanket...

On the other girl’s head and shoulders, like a hooded cape. To this, at least, Monika blinks, so Yuyu feels the need to explain herself.

“Wike Chibimawu-chan,” she says, proudly, pointing to the television and the shy, quiet, blanket-draped hamster playing on it. “Chibimoni-chan!”

Monika blinks at Yuyu, but Yuyu thinks she can see a tiny tiny itty bitty hamster-sized smile behind the soother - so Yuyu smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in these, as well, you can see a bunch of early concepts that i carried over into the fics i write today. it's like beta content but for fanfiction!!


	12. hush (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Little!Monika, Caregiver!Natsuki  
> AU?: regular ol' people au, a timeline i tried out a bit before settling into my preferred one  
> Warnings?: monnie is a bit sad and quiet in this

“... soft?”

* * *

Natsuki wasn’t sure whether Monika watched way too much Blue’s Clues, or not quite enough Blue’s Clues.

For sure, though, she’s watched way too much of the episode with the turtle. Way too much. Way, way too much. Natsuki is one hundred percent certain that she could recite the entire episode perfectly, complete with appropriate sound effects, _backwards,_ and is heavily considering doing so once Sayori returns from her day-occupying errand.

_”Repetition~!”_

Yes, Perfectly-Remembered-Sayori-Voice-In-The-Back-Of-Her-Head-From-When-Natsuki-Called-Her-Just-To-Be-Sure-This-Was-Normal, she gets it. Kids love love love love repetition, which is why the show was re-run five days a week, _once a day,_ and not three times an hour, but god damn it Monika was happy and, listen, Natsuki wasn’t about to tell the kid to pick another show. If she _really, really, really_ wanted to watch a cartoon puppy get a baby turtle for her birthday for the, 20th time today? 21st? Then so be it. A contented kid was all Natsuki was looking for out of today, anyway.

... which is, of course, why in pretty much the second it took her to settle further on the couch, accept her fate, and deeply ponder why the salt shaker had an accent - Monika started to whimper.

“Eh? Hey, hey now, what’s the matter?”

This question is 98% rhetorical; 2% was reserved for hope, springing eternal, of course. Sayori and Natsuki had managed to come to the combined conclusion, after overhearing tiny whispery mumbles that certainly weren’t Yuyu-chan’s and after Sayori called Natsuki dazedly at 6:30 am to ask what in the world a “Hamha” was, was that Monika wasn’t... technically, unable to speak. Whether that was a good thing or a very terrible thing was left mostly up to how much thought one put into it, and Natsuki, currently, did not have time to dwell on the _why_ of her nonverbal charge.

And rhetorical the question remained. Natsuki frowns lightly in puzzlement - nothing seems out of place, really. Monika’s turtle plush is in her lap, and her green soother in her mouth, and a snack and a sippy cup placed well within reach (though Natsuki does remember that Monika has to be physically given something for her to accept it), and by the time she’s finished a mostly ceremonial pat-check of Monika’s arms and legs with no hurting found, her 20 seconds of audible distress are up and Monika is merely staring in distraught silence.

Silence, however, was not going to help Natsuki find the solution.

“... well... your arms are still on,” Natsuki notes, not eliciting much reaction (something she had to get used to, she supposes) - “How about this? Hungry? Thirsty?”

No and no, judging by Monika turning her head when Natsuki reaches for the loop on her paci. Three down...

“Turtle? ‘s right in your lap, babe, look,” Natsuki tries next, but the way Monika grips the fuzzy toy and still looks upset tells her she was well-aware of its presence.

... and... that... was it. No more leads. Natsuki sighs very lightly, tilting her head for a moment before standing back up from her crouch, looking towards the coffee table in search of the remote she’d left there. Maybe Monika was just missing Sayori...

“Sasasa’s gonna be home after dinner, okay? You don’t have to worry about that,” Natsuki assures, back still turned, using Yuyu’s nickname since Monika hasn’t ever really said any of her own - “She always— hweh?”

Natsuki has _no_ earthly clue how Monika managed to relocate herself - silently - to right beneath the paused television in the span of time her back was turned, but she’s almost a little spooked. Half-chuckling, she walks over to crouch back down next to the girl, shaking her head lightly.

“Wanted a better seat? It’s not good for your eyes to be so close to the television, kid...”

She might have continued, if Monika wasn’t so insistently patting her turtle with open palm.

“... petting Turtle?” Natsuki tries, extending her hand to lightly stroke the toy’s fluffy neck. “Really soft, huh?”

Monika just becomes... more insistent, pulling her gaze away from her turtle and affixing it to the television screen, still paused on an image of the cartoon puppy.

“... your... turtle is like the one in the TV?” Natsuki guesses, to no avail - the patting continues.

“... your turtle is blue?” Nope.

Natsuki takes another close look at what Monika is doing. Looking up at the TV, patting her turtle _insistently_ \- so there’s a reason for it - with an open palm.

... with an open...

... huh.

“Monika,” Natsuki says, about to feel _very_ silly if this gigantic, undefined-toddler-aged leap in logic did not turn out to be the right one, “your turtle’s a clue?”

The patting stops, Monika looks at Natsuki again, and the pink-haired girl knows she is right from the lessened distress in bright green eyes.

Well.

“Huh,” Natsuki says - indeed not feeling very silly, but still not feeling entirely _certain_ \- “A clue to what you want?”

Probably a yes; no negative actions from Monika, at least, and Natsuki lets out a hum.

“Okay, a clue. The clue is... turtle?” She ventures - Monika’s gaze drops back to the turtle, and she’s still for a moment before running her hand along its head, like Natsuki had been... before?

“... petting... it’s soft...” Natsuki mutters, concentrating. “Is... the clue _soft?”_

Monika looks up again.

“It is!” Natsuki exclaims, feeling probably a little too proud of herself for that. “I... should probably write this down, huh.”

Yes. That’s what the guy on the show did, anyway, and it was probably a good idea - not that Natsuki would _forget_ anything out of a 3-part list, but, you know. Organization. She quietly thanks herself that she’d tried coloring - again - with Monika earlier, as that meant there was paper and crayons on the low table with no need to wander off from the kid.

When Natsuki looks up from her quick, pink-crayoned scribble (the word “soft” and a little doodle of the turtle, since fun was legal and it fit the theme of the activity, anyway), Monika is already _inexplicably_ at the other side of her, gazing quietly at the piece of printer paper under Natsuki’s curled hand.

“Don’t like people seeing you get around?” Natsuki asks, rhetorically - Monika’s eyes go unfocused for a moment before Natsuki ‘mmn’s just loudly enough for her attention.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. Soft, right?”

Monika looks at the paper, then cautiously raises a hand and places it, open-palm, on top of it. Natsuki blinks.

“... paper... is also a clue?” She wonders, aloud, and Monika just pats again - so not _paper,_ probably. Paper... something the paper _is,_ like how the turtle _is_ soft. Not entirely like the television show, but close enough.

The paper is... white? The paper is... square? The paper is...

“... flat?” Monika looks up at Natsuki again, and Natsuki _definitely_ feels way more triumphant than she should be.

“Flat,” she repeats, scribbling down the word and a little paper square. “Something soft and flat. Yeah?”

Monika is, of course, quiet - though, it’s not as if ‘bow-bow-bow’ would have been more illuminating. Natsuki smiles fondly, and looks over the paper again.

Something... soft and flat. Hm. Well, that narrowed it down more than just ‘soft’, she guesses, considering the stuffed animal heaven that is Sayori’s bedroom; still, this isn’t really enough to make a proper guess. Three is the magic number for a reason. Natsuki wonders if she should turn further away, to let Monika comfortably move -

But is interrupted in her thoughts by a yellow crayon rolling into her sight, shortly covered by an open palm.

“Yellow!”

She was getting better at this. Monika withdraws her hand, looking expectantly at Natsuki’s paper, and Natsuki obliges - the word yellow (in pink) and a doodle of a crayon.

“Okay, that’s three,” she says, “We have soft, flat, and... yellow. What’re you looking for that’s soft, flat, an—“

_Oh good lord, how obvious._

“Your lovey!” Natsuki exclaims, only vaguely and passingly embarrassed by that word coming first to mind instead of _blanket._ Of course. Sayori’d said Monika was stuck to it like glue ever since they’d found her wrapped up in it next to Yuyu. “Auuh, of course. How’d I not think of that earlier? Geez, I’m sorr...”

... Natsuki thinks for a second.

... Monika... just told her what she’d wanted.

In a very roundabout way, yes, that involved no speaking and no visible moving, but - goodness gracious, Monika just _told Natsuki what she wanted._ Actively!

“You told me!” She says, excitedly, out loud, to a generally blank Monika - “You told me you wanted your lovey! Monika, that’s amazing!”

If Monika was Yuyu, Natsuki probably would have gone in for a hug - as it stands, she _almost_ does, but she remembers Monika and fast moving and, well, understands a little too much - and she smiles, bright and warm and absolutely thrilled, instead.

“I’m going to get it for you, okay? I know right where it is,” (She does; she saw it this morning!) “And I’ll bring it right here for you.”

When Natsuki returns to the living room, very shortly, with soft, flat, yellow blanket bundled in tow, Monika is back to where she’d been sitting before, quiet and watching, as she tends to do.

But when Natsuki tucks the blanket around her, Monika _smiles_ \- shy, but _happy_ \- and Natsuki feels like the smartest, most helpful, can-do- _anything_ big sis in the _world._


	13. plush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> characters?: Monika, nonhuman Sayori/Yuri/Natsuki  
> au?: a very special flavor of adopted-by-nonhuman  
> warnings?: not really

Lonely Monika feels weirdly compelled to buy a well-loved stuffed animal on the three occasions she wanders through the local thrift store.

They’re really soft? And she kind of gets attached to them? Which is kinda silly, she’s  _ grown, _ but they just look so cheerful and they’re very good listeners and she does,  _ intend, _ to leave them sensibly and cutely perched on her windowsill like you know, she probably should, but... they’re  _ really _ soft... and kinda nicely heavy... and (oddly enough) for secondhand things, they smell less like “some stranger’s house” and more like, not new and not really like her house and not something specific but just, nice (maybe the thrift shop washes its donations?), and,  _ well,  _ i t’s much warmer and cozier to sleep with a stuffed animal! Or three!!! She defends, insistently, especially when you always end up waking up tucked into your blankets! Which probably has nothing to do with anything, but it's definitely pleasant and not at all something to complain about, as it is _certainly_ a coincidence entirely or, maybe you just toss and turn less when you are hugging a stuffed animal, there we go, see, it’s science.

And, you know, its also nice to have a lap buddy when you are on the couch. And sometimes when you are at the table, and, you know. It's not as if anybody ever comes over to her house, and she hasn’t really talked to anybody in  _ ages _ about things other than studying for exams or extremely small talk made over a cash register, so... it’s... you know, it’s practice... for when somebody  _ does _ come over. Talking out loud, that is. In the vicinity of the very soft cheerful stuffed animal that is occupying a usually-very-empty seat at the kitchen table (what? she didn’t set a plate for it or anything! there are entire cafes that specialize in this, it’s not  _ weird). _

Although, you know - to practice  _ talking _ you have to practice  _ conversations _ and, well, you do kinda have to have two people in a conversation. Or, make up half of it yourself. In your head, of course, saying it out  _ loud _ would be silly, but Monika is nothing if not a very creative person and it is honestly pretty easy to make up, secretly, the other half of the conversation she is having with, um. 

The... the, um... 

The same... _room_ that she is sharing with a snuggly plush cow. Yes. Not, er, definitely _not_ having a spirited conversation  _ with _ the plush cow and not, mentally assigning it a favorite kind of,  _ ice cream _ or anything that would be. Um. That would be silly.

Not as silly as actually purchasing that flavor of ice cream while grocery shopping, or as getting very very used to having conversations with a snuggly plush cowy, and kitty, and bunny, but... not that she does!!! Of, of course, she just— she was just kind of absentminded when she was wandering down the frozen section and it’s, she could definitely quit exclaiming things out loud, and talking with, um, she  _ could _ but she thinks she’s getting very good at holding conversations and maybe all this practice will pay off so quitting now would be a bad idea. She’s even getting very good at preten—  _ er— _ at  _ predicting _ the kind of conversation that, um, that two people who aren’t her might have with each other. 

Predicting. That’s all!! There is no daydreaming happening and while we’re at it, she is  _ very _ much  _ grown _ and capable of not dozing off on the couch midway through the day, no matter how cuddly and warm her lap buddy is or how boring the selection of television shows is. She’s definitely doing something sensible, like homework. She does  _ not _ keep waking up with couch-button-marks on her cheek, blinking groggily at the public broadcasts’ kid’s channel that... she... probably rolled over on the remote while she was— on the remote and didn’t  _ hear _ it change, not asleep, and she  _ really _ does have to do her homework now anyway so off it goes with no time to, um, dwell on that mystery.

It is kind of a shame that she still doesn’t really get any chances to show off all her new conversation skills, but, that’s okay; she supposes that practice does make perfect, after all, and she’s getting a  _ lot _ of practice at home, because her frien— oh— gosh. Her  _ stuffed animals, _ er... well... the personalities, um, that she has  _ assigned, _ her stuffed animals, for,  _ practice purposes, _ are all very very interested in what she’s doing. All the time. So she gets to explain it, like when she’s doing homework, or laundry, and they  _ always _ want to hear about what she did at school, or what happened at work, which she often describes at great length at the kitchen table during dinner which. 

Um. 

Somehow plates have sort of snuck out to all the chairs but, it would look kinda funny otherwise, right? Anyway, it’s good practice and they’re  _ very _ good listeners and her cowy reminds her to take her last bite instead of chasing it. 

UM. 

She reminds herself to not get so distracted and accidentally does it in the same voice she uses for the personality she has practice assigned her new friend cow.

* * *

She doesn’t notice feeling lonely so much at home anymore, but she  _ is _ noticing how lonely she feels when she is  _ not _ at home. Which is kind of... that’s kind of silly, right? Because there’s people  _ everywhere _ when she’s  _ not _ at home so she’s, very clearly not alone at  _ all, _ but she still isn’t getting any chances to prove how good she’s gotten at talking and having conversations and she really wishes she brought Kitty with her— 

BECAUSE— 

B— Because??? Kitty is... soft and, and she guesses  _ familiar _ and— people— and people feel better when there are familiar things around? Don’t they? And soft things make people feel better, right? This makes... sense, doesn’t it? Right. 

Right. 

She wants Kitty because she’s, soft and familiar, and she tries to just focus on her job instead of how much she wants to pet Kitty (because Kitty is at home and besides where would she even  _ put _ her this is a silly  _ silly _ idea and she is  _ grown) _ but, it’s very dark outside when she’s going home and she doesn’t know anybody on the train (and she never  _ does _ so why) and all she wants is Kitty and Bunny and Cowy and a hug but she’s grown and she’s  _ fine _ being  _ alone _ and she does not, at all, jolt and tuck her knees up to her chest when the train doors squeal behind her. She’s just cold. 

(And she wants to go home.)

* * *

She does not have a bad dream. It is not about a big empty classroom full of empty desks and chairs and it doesn’t turn into a big creepy empty store, when she walks to where the hallway is supposed to be, and the aisles don’t turn into a big empty train car which creaks and rattles and blows cold air and  _ doesn’t _ have something scary, and toothy, and  _ grabby _ right outside the sliding door—

—she’s just making herself feel better, right? Shivering and clinging to a warm soft stuffed animal that still smells like sleep, even though she’s crying rather ungracefully into her, the things she’s hearing in her head are just  _ her, _ aren’t they? Even if she doesn’t remember putting any of these words together, and she’s so scared and sad that she has no idea how she would think of any of this in the first place, but Cowy says she’s okay and she just had a scary dream and there’s nothing bad in her bedroom come to get her and she believes Cowy because she wouldn’t  _ lie _ about something that important. It’s okay to nuzzle her face back into Cowy’s cuddly belly because she’s still so tired, and Cowy says that she’s safe and okay, so, she  _ must _ be, and she sniffles and listens to Cowy humming until she falls asleep again and doesn’t think about it very hard in the morning.

She doesn’t think about her bad dreams very hard at all until she has an  _ accident  _ because of one _. _

Which. Is. Which is  _ mortifying, _ even if the only ones awake to see it are Monika and Bunny, and she’s very suddenly gripped by the feeling to start crying all over again before Bunny shushes her gently and reminds her that she has her own washing machine and dryer, which is true, and tells her that Cowy and Kitty are sleeping up on her other pillow anyway, which is also true, so now Monika just feels embarrassed and shivery and wet. She... she  _ is, _ a, a grown person, and she does know how to wash her own bedding and pajama pants, but she brings Bunny anyway because it’s dark in the hallway and she’s tired and sad and she kind of needs help remembering what setting to use— which, she, she just remembers because she told Bunny how to— she’s too tired to think about this right now and she moves to sit miserably on the floor in front of the washer until it’s done, but then Bunny  _ also _ reminds her that she should probably clean up  _ herself _ quick and, you know, put on new pants, and Monika almost starts crying again and she doesn’t know  _ why. _

Cleaning up is easy anyway but she just, she brings Bunny and she goes to her bathroom and spends an embarrassingly long amount of time remembering how to get the water not too hot or too cold but she ends up cold anyway because she’s  _ wet _ again after she wipes off even though it’s  _ water _ this time AND Bunny has to tell her very  _ very _ gently to pat off with a towel and go get new pants and she almost doesn’t. She doesn’t exactly know _what_ she’d prove by sitting on the bathroom rug with damp legs but, but she doesn’t, anyway, she goes and gets new pants and does at least remember that the tag goes in the back of them. _T_ _ hen _ she sits in front of the washer, and then the dryer, and she’s too tired to put everything back nice on her bed, why does it matter anyway the stretchy sheet is stupid and she curls up in a ball and  _ sleeps. _

* * *

_ Maybe _ Monika notices that something fishy  _ must _ be going on when she wakes up tucked into her blankets, like usual. And  _ maaaaaybe _ she just got up early and did it herself, and went back to bed and forgot about it, because she was cold sleeping on a pile of sheets instead of under them,

But it definitely doesn’t happen only  **once!**

And eventually, at some point, you think if you’re acting in your right mind you  _ have _ to remember doing all that at  _ some _ point, right? It  _ could _ be a sleepwalking thing, although, she’s never really done that before, but then again she’s also having some problems with something  _ else _ she has never really done before so... so. Maybe this is some coincidental, if perfectly explainable, phenomena, and she can save her detective energy for fending off the completely  _ un- _ called for thoughts in somebody else’s voice she keeps having when she walks by a particular aisle in the drugstore, because,  _ nnnnooooo thaaaaannnkkkkkk yoooouuuuuuu!!! _ What she's losing on the water bill she's making up in dignity!

For about a month. Or so.

_ Eventually _ waking up in the middle of the night all the time and having to sit up for an hour and being very cold and miserable does, uh, kind of lose its perceived allure over... not doing that. And maybe she is starting to feel very bad about how worried all her friends sound about her being so tired and upset in the mornings. And... it’s... they’re for _adults,_ it’s just. A sudden-onset, perfectly nor... perfectly something-that-happens-sometimes, that, well they’re only for at  _ night _ right so it’s. Fine. It’s _f_ _ ine.  _ And as an unforeseen, added bonus, she doesn’t have a nightmare even though she forgot about taking any medicine before bed! 

... she still,  _ um. _ But that’s probably... not important. That’ll probably stop happening. The no bad dreams  _ and _ no waking up groggy and weird is the  _ important _ part.

* * *

Maybe she finally has to admit that she’s not really practicing anything anymore by the time she starts asking the opinions of her stuffed animals regarding dinner. 

But... she doesn’t feel lonely and sad in her own house anymore, though, and nobody else ever wanted to be her friend anyway, and now she has  _ three _ friends that talk to her (much more than zero) and she can even cuddle with them and dress them up and they don’t think she’s weird or embarrassing for doing  _ anything _ which, makes them,  _ better _ than any other friends  _ actually. _ She’s pretty sure that if she really tried having conversations with anyone else they’d say she was— being too nice to a bunch of stuffed animals, at least. Which would be a mean and terrible thing to say about someones who were so nice to her and made her feel happy and never thought she was silly for talking to them, so, so it’s very  _ justified _ that she doesn’t dignify any such mean people by having conversations with them anyway. She likes talking to Cowy and Kitty and Bunny more. It's fun and they’re nice and the much _better_ best friends ever, so there.

It's much more fun playing at home once she stops pretending that she’s doing boring  _ practicing, _ too, which is really really good - now that she’s not making herself feel all embarrassed all the time and trying to tell herself not to talk to her friends so much and all of that stuff, she can just tell her friends all about everything ever and that’s okay. And she can give Cowy the ice cream with the sprinkles in it and she can make cookie dough when Kitty says she thinks it would be a fun idea, and Bunny likes coloring pictures so _M_ _ onika _ must like coloring pictures and actually she does like it a lot and she’s really really glad she found all those old markers and pencils and crayons in her bottom desk drawer. 

Now that she’s having  _ fun _ talking to her friends she doesn’t feel as weird when she wakes up on the couch in the middle of the day ( ~~ except the one time she notices she, but, Cowy can help her fix it and she  _ is _ the only person who ever comes to her house so it’s, it’s okay probably if she just puts on, during the daytime, just at home, just in  _ case, _ ~~ _ ) _ anymore and actually the tv channel it keeps getting set to when she falls asleep holding the remote is... nice. For being on in the background. She’s not  _ watching _ it, because it’s not, you know,  _ she’s _ not, but it  _ sounds _ nice and it’s fine to have on as nice noise. Yes. 

The voice that she uses to read in her head sounds less and less like hers but that makes it more fun, she thinks, to think someone else is reading to her. Much much _much_ less lonely.

* * *

Even better than just not having bad dreams anymore, now Monika is having  _ good _ dreams! 

Maybe she wouldn’t have classified ‘having dreams about going on a picnic with her teddies’ as a  _ good _ thing before, but compared to having bad dreams they’re terrific and she’s always having a nice time in them so, they  _ must _ be really good dreams, even ones about going to a playground - there’s no one else there and playgrounds are meant to be  _ played _ on, right? She hasn’t been to one in forever and it’s so much fun to go on the swing with Kitty in her lap, especially when Bunny pushes her so she doesn’t even have to kick so much, and, well it’s a dream so that’s clearly why that can happen. 

Someone at school tells her she sounds much happier lately and Monika is so surprised that she forgets to say anything back but now, she kinda notices that she’s humming a lot more now, and that she kicks her legs under her chair, and that she’s a lot more bouncy walking to work. Is she really that much happier now? She asks Cowy when she gets home and Cowy says that she  _ does _ definitely seem much much happier and Cowy sounds so excited about it that Monika can’t help but agree because, even if she wasn’t, she would  _ want _ to be if it made Cowy so happy, and she plucks her up off the back of the couch and gives her a biiiig hug before running up to her room to make pictures.

* * *

Monika does not...  _ remember _ doing her homework last night, but, it’s in her backpack? 

She ponders this for a minute before, well, okay it would be a bad idea to  _ not _ turn it in. Even if she doesn’t remember doing it, she can at least remember Bunny reading her textbook to her, so...  _ even _ if she can only really remember coloring and dinner and taking a bath and going to bed that’s... she probably did it _somewhere_ in there and she just remembers all the fun stuff much better. It’s easier to remember that stuff, right? 

It's also easier to want to  _ do _ that stuff, which is probably why she’s ended up just doodling all over the lines in her notebook instead of writing any notes, but that’s also probably fine; she’ll just ask Bunny if she doesn’t understand anything when she gets home, because she’s really good at explaining things. 

She has to stop at the grocery store after work and it takes  _ suuuuch _ a long time and she almost complains about it, though, not  _ to _ anybody she guesses since - but Cowy and Kitty end up asking for a  _ bunch _ of stuff that she doesn’t normally get and maybe that would have seemed kind of weird but it all looks fun, like a book with pictures to color in and new crayons and nice-smelling bath soap and a little tube of plastic animals, and nobody in line remarks on it or anything, maybe because they can tell she’s getting it for her friends? Because it’s definitely for her friends, really, it is. Bunny likes it when she colors pictures for her and Kitty likes it when she tells her stories about stuff she makes up, and she can make up lots of stuff about the little plastic animals, and Cowy likes snuggling with her when she finishes taking a bath and smells all nice and that’s definitely what the bubbles are for, so it’s all just nice extra things for her friends that she got because she’s so nice. 

Yeah. 

... she doesn’t think anyone  _ asked _ for the green blanket that also sort of ended up in her, cart, and on the receipt? But...

... but...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll get stream of consciousness caretaken-by-plush and you'll LIKE it (or at least not complain to me if you don't)


	14. ddkc!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Monika, Sayori   
> AU?: regular humans AU, not-a-game  
> Warnings?: nope!

“Aww, c’mon! Are you _suuuurrreeee_ you don’t wanna sign up~?”

Monika looks up at Sayori, perched on the edge of the cafeteria table and staring at Monika with the most cajoling expression she can muster. She blinks - once, twice - and then frowns, glancing away into the nearly-empty commons room.

“... Sayori, I don’t really _like_ kids,” she says, picking at the remains of her lunch with a sigh, balancing her chin in her palm. “I know we don’t hang out _that_ much anymore because of school stuff, but, that kind of thing only looks good on your transcript if you’re going into ECD, or primary education or something.”

“Well, yeah, but—“ Sayori pouts. “You already did three whole dumb years of Debate Club! And you don’t even _like_ it. You complain about it _all the time.”_

“Yeah, but, it’s prestigious or whatever...”

”Yeah, _but,_ you _hate_ it! Come onnnn, it’s our last school year together,” Sayori prods. “Everyone’s really nice and we don’t argue over things all the time _and_ Haruko isn’t there!”

“You make a great defense case.” Monika says wryly. “Unfortunately, still doesn’t sell me to a first-rate college.”

_”Pleeeassseee?_ You don’t have to stay _forever_ or anything,” Sayori presses, leeeeeaning over with those puppydog eyes Monika has yet to learn how to counter. “You don’t even have to come every single day! We just really _really_ need someone to—“

“... someone to what?” Monika asks, puzzled by Sayori’s abrupt halt and somewhat-flustered expression.

“Um. I mean, we, we _do_ already have all the members we need, but,” the other says, squirming slightly where she’s seated, “But we kinda need someone to - ummmm - bounce ideas off of. Who doesn’t already know everything! You know, like,”

“You need a rubber duck,” supplies Monika, no less confused by the way Sayori’s face goes a shade darker (and her smile an inch wider) as she does so. “Well...”

“J-Just for, like, two days a week. _If_ even! Maybe even one would be fine!”

“... well,” Monika sighs, “My Wednesdays _are_ pretty free right now, since it’s just prep day for Debate—“

“Hah, yeah, like you need that!”

Monika preens a little bit, flipping her ponytail to one side. “Mmhm. And it’s not like I’m on varsity this year, so...”

“Oh, right.” Sayori’s gaze flickers sympathetically to the first fingers on Monika’s right hand. “Um... so... so you’ll come by?”

“Sure.” Monika nods. “I might as well. I mean, just to hang out with you, if nothing else, right? I really don’t know how much help I’ll actually be at something called...”

She peers at the paper again, wincing.

“... Sayori, did you really have to call it Kindergarten Club instead of, I don’t know, Future Teachers Association or something... like... _normal?”_

“It’s _cute!”_ Sayori hmphs, crossing her arms righteously. “And besides, _that_ makes it sound stuffy and super duper boring and it’s _totally_ not!”

“I dunno, ‘yori. I can’t see any club _you_ founded being boring, but I’ve also got _no_ idea how you turned _‘my life goal is to write lesson plans for toddlers’_ into something... interesting.”

“Man, I keep forgetting you hatched out of an egg as a straight-A high school senior,” Sayori sighs. “I just can’t believe you replaced my best friend so _easily._ You know we used to play teacher when we were like, ten? Best years of my life. A shame you didn’t _actually_ experience any of that—“

Sayori, thinking she deserved a bit more than the wadded-up napkin Monika tosses in her face, grins right through the fit of giggles she breaks off into.

* * *

(... Monika did not _actually_ hatch from an egg and replace the Monika that has been Sayori’s best friend for over ten years.)

But, rather unable to get to sleep that night, Monika _did_ have her reasons for brushing her mostly off - not off enough to get out of sitting in on that club, unfortunately, but what is clearly a fond and formative memory for Sayori is a little bit different for Monika, for a few reasons.

For one thing, a _lot_ of fond childhood memories are recolored in concerning ways when you hit puberty, and then hit high school, and then hit a stark realization about your orientation that you might have been dancing around for several years out of confusion and/or pure obliviousness—

And for another thing, some other fond childhood memories are... _less_ about making up fun cute activities to make your best friend do, and _more_ about the weird butterflies flitting about in your stomach while your best friend gives you smiley stickers on your pretend handwriting homework and leads you by the hand outside to the backyard for recess.

And the internet has been a lot more mortifying when adding its two cents to one of these phenomena than the other.

(Monika drops her pillow over her face, lets out a muffled groan, and _prays_ that Sayori isn’t getting any _bright ideas_ for Wednesday.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> argh i actually have like so many ideas for this but. WIPs. You Know How It Is !!! 
> 
> count all the future plot elements i have hinted at and set up in this opening ficlet, win the prize of my being super impressed (& maybe a smiley face sticker)


	15. shoes (precocious!verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: De-Aged!Monika, Caregiver!Yuri, Unnamed!Bank Assistant
> 
> AU?: this takes place at an unspecified future date in the universe of another of my fics, precocious - it doesn’t precisely fit into the flow of the rest of the fic and i’m not sure when it would come into relevance anyhow, so here it will go, along with... any... future cute baby ideas i have that don’t progress plot lines, probably, to prevent that fic from just becoming slice of life baby shenanigans (something i treasure deeply but will absolutely careen headfirst into without seatbelt)
> 
> warnings?: literally none. enjoy lovey infant baby content

Going to the bank is _sooooooooooooo boringggggg._

It isn’t even particularly interesting when one is an _adult,_ who actually has something to be doing there, but it is _extremely_ completely boring when one is a baby. For one thing, Monika thinks, peering over the desk with a cross expression from her seat on Mommy’s lap, she can’t even play around with the numbers in her head anymore - the highest number she can properly count to is... uh... 

... 

“Is _s’een,”_ she lisps past her pacifier, holding up an assortment of fingers mostly intended to break Mommy’s attention away from the boring paper she’s writing on. Also, she can count to sixteen. 

“Hmmm? Sixteen what, darling?” Mommy asks - attention not _entirely_ redirected, but she kisses one of Monika’s hands and that’s good enough for right now. 

“Umme’ws,” Monika announces, pointing at the paper. “Go ho’b now.”

Mommy seems to find this very amusing, giving Monika an affectionate squeeze around the middle as she continues to write. _“Sixteen_ numbers? My, that’s an awful lot, isn’t it?”

“Ahhuhhh,” Monika nods, though she’s already starting to tune out the proceedings again. The best laid plans of two-year-olds never quite seem to work out, to her mild dismay - mild because Turtle was here, of course, and Mommy’s lap was very cozy, and at least she didn’t _have_ to pay attention. She was simply a very small interloper in the grownup proceedings, here, which was steadily becoming less and less of a daily frustration and source of worry.

_Sadly,_ Mommy had turned down the bank employee’s offer of a lollipop in her stead; Monika would have been more annoyed with that if not for knowing that she would probably buy her a _big_ candy on the way home, because that had happened the last three times they had come through the bank’s drive-through window. For whatever reason, Mommy seemed to prefer giving Monika something so big she had to actually _lick_ it, which always seemed to disappear shortly after she wandered away from it (or, often, dozed off in the car holding it). It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand how to suck things - her slowly-expanding pacifier collection should make that quite clear - but alas, mommies operated in mysterious ways. 

And _Na’ski_ always got her the pretty candy pacifiers anyway, so it’s not like Monika is missing out on much in the world.

Monika usually doesn’t mind being taken to the bank, because she got a car ride _and_ Mommy time _and_ a treat, if not the excitement of more surprise errands popping up, but usually they don’t come _inside_ the bank. Often Monika had wondered what exactly did go on inside the bank (the details were becoming... more than a bit fuzzy), but sadly the answer was turning out to be “boredom”. Probably stored in all the file cabinets. Mommy’s lap _is_ nice, but there are hardly any buzzy bumblebee toys to be pulling on or pretend steering wheels to be turning (complete with pretend horns to be pressing), and there isn’t any interesting scenery inside the bank - just some tired-looking employees and a lot of desks placed awkwardly far apart.

... well, there is _one_ piece of interesting scenery in the bank: a colorful little rug set well within eyesight of all the desks, occupied by a teeny desk just the right size for teeny people and _one_ toybox, made out of real wood and everything. _That_ was the most interesting thing Monika has seen in about ten hours (or maybe fifteen minutes), and she has been critically eyeing it for about two. She can’t see any noise-making toys poking out of the top of it - a shame, but Monika supposes that grownups doing lots of boring counting might want some quiet to concentrate, especially once they got past sixteen - though she does see an extremely-promising set of sticks that might, _possibly,_ be for toy cars, and the wooden floor surrounding the fuzzy little baby-sized island of interesting excitement was _definitely_ raceycar-track material...

“Monika, sweetheart,” Mommy murmurs, gently patting the side of Monika’s legs; this is how Monika realizes she’s been wriggling a little bit in anticipation. She hasn’t... well, she hasn’t really ever wandered off from one of her mommies _outside_ before. In the house, maybe, b’cause _sheesh_ some people could not take a hint regarding proper block-house building strategies - but _outside?_ She doesn’t think anybody has ever even put her _down_ outside, not since the very first day when she found Turtle in that store. 

(Maybe Mama noticed that Monika was kind of scared, and remembered, and Monika’s heart goes a little funny at the thought.)

... but... _now_ Monika isn’t, _quite_ as worried, that somebody’s going to forget about her, or get tired of her, or any other kind of horrible thing to do to a baby. The thought of toddling over to explore the toybox isn’t filling her with any sense of dread - mostly curiosity and excitement with maybe a little bit of nervousness to not be holding onto Mommy but, it wasn’t _that_ far away and she could definitely still see her from over there. If she really _really_ didn’t like it, maybe she could just grab a raceycar and come back and play with it right next to Mommy’s chair, even. It probably wouldn’t...

She probably _could..._

_Are we gonna go look at the toys, Monika?!_ Turtle asks, eyes shining excitedly. _I bet there’s_ **_lots_ ** _of toys we don’t even have at home!_

Turtle makes a very good point, really. The bank is not Monika’s house and there are probably definitely for sure new and interesting things in that toybox that is looking more and more irresistible by the second. Mommy knew _lots_ of numbers and probably didn’t need Monika babysitting her to do the really boring paperwork and everyone knew babies really needed to play with toys because they had to learn new things and Turtle _really really really_ wants to go see annnnndddddd,

Monika wriggles again, sucking hard on her pacifier for a moment before tugging on Mommy’s sleeve.

“D— D’oww?”

“Hm?” Mommy blinks down at Monika, looking rather surprised for a moment. “You’d like me to put you down, Monnie?”

“Uhh - uhhuh,” Monnie nods, eyes shining. “P’yay t’e’wwe.”

“Ohh, you’d like to go see the toys,” Mommy says, making a soft ‘i-see-i-see’ noise in her throat as she nods. “You certainly may, sweetpea - dowwwwn we go, hup~.”

And Mommy slides Monnie carefully down off her lap, setting her upright on legs as babyishly wobbly as ever, Turtle securely hugged against her chest. _How exciting!!_ Mommy trusted her to go play with the toys, all by herself (well herself and Turtle), and that seems very very important right now _really_ and, feeling full to bursting with lots of happy feelings and lots of thinks of playing with raceycars, Monnie starts toddling forward into a run and—

_Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak._

She makes it about halfway there before sliding to an abrupt halt, eyes widening and head turning to the sides in comical surprise.

What in the _world_ was that noise?! 

Nothing to either side of her seems to have moved at all, and, puzzled, she turns around to see if Mommy might also have heard i—

_Squeak squeak!_

**Again?!**

Mommy is already looking at her - that’s good because Monnie isn’t very good at being noisy when she talks, and she isn’t sure if she could get Mommy’s attention from here, but Mommy looks just as surprised as Monnie feels which might mean she doesn’t know what that noise is either! A little bit worried, Monnie thinks maybe she should go back over to Mommy, but—

_Squeak squeak squeak squeak—_

The noise keeps _happening!_ Monnie turns around because maybe it’s _behind_ her and goes to see—

_Squeak squeak squeak—_

Turns around again because—

_Squeak squeak squeak squeak—_

**Where is the noise coming from?!**

Now quite convinced that there’s a mouse hiding under one of the unoccupied desks, Monnie is running back and forth between them to a neverending chorus of _squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak_ and she has _very_ small legs and they are getting _very_ tired and she is _not_ finding any wayward mice. Finally turning to Mommy _again,_ hoping to ask if _she’d_ seen the desk the mouse had run over to, she sees—

Mommy... _giggling?_

Mommy quietly laughing, so much so that it looked a little bit as if she was going to cry - the employee behind her is smiling too, although a little bit confused still, so at least _someone_ other than Monnie still doesn’t know what’s going on, here.

“... I... my w-wife...”

Oh, gosh, Mommy can barely say words right now. (Monnie is not quite aware that she is mirroring a lopsided and very perplexed smile, which is perhaps all the cuter.)

“I th... I think my wife,” Mommy manages, head turned enough to be speaking to the employee behind her, “I think my wife bought— those shoes for her, I, had no idea— I’m sorry,” Mommy says, though with how much she’s laughing Monnie doesn’t think she’s _sorry_ sorry, not really. 

Wait. Shoes?

Monnie looks down at her shoes again, which are very regular-looking shoes and very cute, with little fox faces on their toes (she still loves turtles the most, but foxes are very cute and smart and Monnie likes them lots, too). Taking one, exaggerated step forwards, eyes trained resolutely on her shoe...

_Squeak!_

**Eureka!**

“O— ‘Ommmy, mo-ooommmy!” Monnie gasps, pacifier tumbling clear out of her mouth and dangling by its clip, _”S’ues!”_

Taking another squeaky step in place, for emphasis. Mommy beams at her, nodding along.

“Your shoes _are_ what’s making that sound, aren’t they, darling?”

“Sk’eeky, s’eeky s’ues!” Monnie agrees, taking one or two more toddly steps towards Mommy before remembering that there were toys behind her and now that she knowed her _shoes_ were the mysterious squeaky squeaky, it was okay to go play. Which she very wanted to do, and Turtle very wanted to do, and, hurriedly pushing her pacifier back into her mouth, off baby and turtle went to a chorus of _squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak..._

_(“Goodness, I— I do apologize for the disturbance, though, truly—”_

_”Ohh, don’t worry about it, ma’am - honestly, with how slow today’s been...”)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are they married yet? no. is yuri practicing using the title like a dork? yes. does monika just assume at this point that her mommies are already married because they hold hands and have a baby and thus this raises absolutely no curiosity about the word switches while out on errands? take a guess don’t be shy


	16. appointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (expanded upon into its own fic here: works/29257695 )
> 
> Characters: unknowing!Little!Monika, concerned!Big!Sayori/Yuri/Natsuki, unnamed!medical professional
> 
> AU?: classification au but make it isekai, merry Christmas monika you are now abaue (assigned baby at universe entry)
> 
> Warnings?: monika has given no consent to being dragged to the doctor’s to have her terrible infected injuries treated (because sometimes a bitch lives in the constant fear of having Things Done To Them and likes to fantasize about those Unknown Things being things they secretly like). if that wigs you out don’t read this and if i ever write other Classification Isekai you probably won’t like them either, now go forth and live deliciously

“I, l-like your perfume,” Monika croaks, and _immediately_ wishes that she hadn’t.

For one thing, what a _weird_ fucking thing to say to a _doctor._ Horrible and ridiculous and embarrassing - not that the statement was actually any more embarrassing than seeing a doctor while sitting on your... acquaintance’s lap, _or_ any more embarrassing than seeing a doctor while clad in the _dumbest_ most childish short pajama set you’ve laid eyes on in your entire life, but it sure wasn’t helping matters even if said doctor didn’t seem to think anything at _all_ was odd about Monika’s observation.

“Aw, thanks,” he says, mildly and quite pleasantly - there’s... _something_ in his tone that makes the mortified blush creeping up around the back of Monika’s neck bite just that extra bit harder, but it’s when he _continues_ his statement:

“Yours is quite nice as well. Now, I heard you’ve been having a little trouble with your skin, is that right?”

That Monika’s train of thought (stretched thin as paper as it is) grinds to a _screeching_ halt.

She isn’t _wearing_ any perfume. She’s been in the _woods_ for the past— month? _Two?_ This— unnervingly cheerful doctor’s office is the second building she’s been in, total, and the first was...

... m, _maybe_ it’s because of the stop they’d made at Yuri’s house. Yuri’s-Natsuki’s-Sayori’s-house, that... that would _kind_ of make sense, wouldn’t it? These _were_ clothes from _their_ house (for whatever reason they had them) - she _had_ fallen asleep in one of _their_ beds. Surely... _surely,_ the sensible answer to this was that she just smelled rather blatantly like she’d been in the home of somebody who really had a thing for diffusers and, well, perfume. Yeah. That’s it.

... ah. Monika tunes back in a little too late, it seems, because the doctor’s already talking over her head.

“Well, I’m sure you can see...” Yuri is saying, _exceedingly_ carefully tracing a line around one of the angriest-looking rashes on Monika’s arm (though that hardly prevents her from wincing). The doctor sucks in a sympathetic breath, nodding. 

“Ahh, that does look painful. Has she recently been in incompatible clothing?”

“Due to extenuating circumstances,” Yuri says, carefully. “For at least...”

“At least a couple weeks?” Sayori chimes in.

“... _all_ her clothing?”

Monika does not even need to look up to see the grimace in the doctor’s tone. To be fair, she’s been doing an awful lot of grimacing too - it’s _her_ body covered in searing-sore, angry red blotches for reasons apparently related to her clothes, which naturally had presented no troubles _before_ all this stupid universal-displacement nonsense; and she still hasn’t quite made up her mind whether to be utterly relieved that this Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki had _mysteriously_ known what to do to (somewhat) relieve that pain, or to be utterly unsettled by that prescient knowledge.

“All her clothing,” Yuri confirms, and. Well. The ill-fated attempt at a bath earlier had illustrated well enough to Monika why her tone should be so somber. 

... though... now that she’s been given a proper chance to slow down and think some of this through. What _exactly_ are they here at a _doctor’s_ office for? The three girls Monika kinda-sorta-not-really-knew already seemed to know what the problem was, if not the unfortunate severity around some very extremely tender unmentionable areas. And Yuri had said something about a medicated bath, somewhere in between re-dressing Monika (as little as possible) and Monika dozing off - _that_ didn’t sound like something you needed to visit a medical professional for. That was… over-the-counter fare, wasn’t it? 

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter?”

Monika zones back into an awareness of her surroundings to realize she has been staring at Natsuki and looking _increasingly_ distressed, which, Natsuki seems to have taken to mean ‘please hold my hand’ and bravely gone and done just that. Angling her gaze downwards towards where Natsuki is running her thumb over Monika’s knuckles... is not really making her feel much less distressed, but it does feel nicer than staring into space and panicking all by herself. Weird, that she could still feel all alone in a roomful of people. 

“Honey,” the doctor says, lightly (and mercifully) tapping the top of Monika’s head, “Would you like to come sit up on the checkup table for me, please?”

“N-No.”

Monika’s voice is still very sore from the pained, embarrassed, confounded crying she has been doing very recently - and the sudden and current threat of being poked at for unknown reasons by an unknown person in an unknown place in an unknown _version of reality_ is making tears prickle at the corners of her aching eyes all over again. 

“Thank y-you,” she adds, whispery and faint - in case that had sounded rude. “N-No th— thank you.”

“Ah, very good manners,” the doctor chuckles, stepping back a bit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much your poor feet must be hurting. If you may, Miss... ?”

“Nakahara,” Yuri says, before— wait wait wait no no no, she starts putting her arms under Monika as if she’s going to pick her up again, no, _no no no_ hold on hold on _hold on_ \- “Okay, dearheart, let’s—“

_”N-No!”_

Monika would be more embarrassed over how that came out as a _squeal_ more than a firm (if panicked) declaration, but she’s a bit too busy shaking like a leaf and clinging to Yuri for dear life to be concerned about how she sounded. Natsuki startles, frowning sympathetically even as Monika screws her eyes shut, burying her face in the side of Yuri’s neck as if she could hide there.

“Oh— _sweetheart,_ you’re okay,” Yuri says, laying a hand over Monika’s back as gently as she possibly could, but - Monika fell for that exactly _once,_ before getting hot water (okay, _warm_ water) hosed down in almost a total stranger’s bathroom, and she is not about to fall for it again _in a doctor’s office._ No. _No._ She is _not_ going to be put down on a checkup table, she is going to sit here and cling onto Yuri and her appreciable jasmine perfume like a frightened marsupial and _damn_ however silly she looked. She has had, _enough,_ for one day.

_(“... oh dear. She wouldn’t happen to have any sort of comfort... ?”)_

_(“E-Extenuating circumstances...”)_

_(“Well, there must be something available— ah, you know, I think we have something. One moment.”)_

If Monika was liable to hear anything over the blood rushing in her ears, then she might have been some kind of suspicious about the doctor’s purposeful exit from the room - unfortunately, she couldn’t. Beyond her own anxious white noise, Yuri had decided to try humming a gentle tune rather than chiming in on the conversation, so Monika’s perception was quite wholly occupied with the warmth, nice smell and soft melody all generated by the woman carefully holding her.

Which... wasn’t... _terrible._ It wasn’t _ideal,_ no, but it wasn’t... awful. Even though the imminent threat of being doctored upon was still looming over her, it seemed at least a bit further away, and - well - being rocked and hummed to felt nice. Very simply. Monika was even starting to feel a little bit melty by the time unfamiliar footsteps re-entered the room behind her, which - in retrospect - is probably the cause of her reaction time being just dulled _enough_ for the following events to occur:

Yuri making a small, understanding noise at _something_ going on behind Monika’s head, before tipping her back and slightly off of her chest,

A gloved hand entering her field of vision for precisely _two_ entire seconds, during which Monika could discern nothing about the object it was holding until it was pushed into her mouth,

And Yuri pressing her (carefully) back into her previous position - face pressed into and hidden against her neck - _just_ in time for Monika to realize, in a single shocked moment, that what is now _trapped_ inside her mouth is a _pacifier._

“Ohhhh I don’t think she’s gonna like th—“

_”NNNNH!”_

Monika hopes _everyone_ winces about the _utterly indignant_ noise she just made, because they all quite frankly _deserve to._

A pacifier. A pacifier! For _babies_ ! An infantile object used to _shut up infants!_ No matter _how much_ she’d cried today over fairly ridiculous things - _from stress thank you very much_ \- or how _stupid_ these pajamas looked on her— or— or _anything_ else, she was _not—!_

“Jeez, dude, you made her cry again!” Natsuki snaps, which is what alerts Monika to the angry tears spilling down over her own face. “What’d you go and do that for?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, does she not take a pacifier?” The doctor says, which would _almost_ have made Monika’s tears stop cold, if, not for the fact it was a bit out of her control in the first place. “The pattern of her injuries would suggest her to be somewhere in the 24 months range, if that.”

And Yuri _freezes._ Natsuki _hesitates._

“... uh,” she says, rubbing awkwardly at her arm. “N-No, you’re... I think you just surprised her big-time. She’s having _kind of_ a rough day, if you haven’t noticed?”

(Monika stares _mutinously.)_

“Ah,” the doctor says, possibly nodding, “I apologize. The little ones tend to spit them out before they notice what’s on them, you see.”

“Oh,” Natsuki mumbles. 

“Here, Miss - ah - Kimura. I’m sure this will do well enough as a soother when properly scented.”

“Ahh, it’s so soft!”

... no, no, go back. _What_ was on the stupid baby pacifier?! Monika shivers in Yuri’s arms, tears leaking hopelessly down her cheeks as her mouth traitorously gives the rubber teat lodged in it a hesitant suck. Whatever _was_ on it was... gelatinous, to put it mildly. Nearly downright _sticky,_ and with that weird off-taste of too-sweet that she faintly remembers from ear infections and brightly-colored medicine. At least it isn’t _bitter_ \- not that that small concession stops her from letting out another heartbroken whimper, squirming as much as didn’t hurt against her _captor’s_ grip (since Monika was fairly, bitterly certain that friends don’t let friends get weird concoctions stuck in their mouths in strange medical offices).

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Yuri murmurs, sounding... at least decently, genuinely sorry about it. “It’s only to help you get better, that’s all,”

Rash ointment, Monika has noted, is not _typically_ orally applied.

She isn’t completely certain how long she cries against Yuri’s neck - she doesn’t have much energy left in her in the first place, and by the time she feels like shedding any more tears would be like squeezing blood from a stone, her tongue has been absently working at the pacifier for long enough that the feeling is no longer entirely foreign, and her head is starting to feel muzzy in a way... not _entirely_ unlike post-cry tiredness, but not entirely _like_ it, either. Not that she gets very long to dwell on it. Once the last of her hiccuping sob-shakes died away, Yuri had carefully returned her to her original sitting position - oh, wow, that was... dizzying - and... something soft and green is deposited on her lap. How odd.

Nobody seems much interested in talking _to_ her, no, the doctor’s gone right over her head again - so she reaches down for the soft thing herself, grip feeling much clumsier than usual, and to her surprise it seems that the thing is a _blanket._ A very, _very_ soft blanket with a smooth, shiny trim that you could, _probably,_ call a baby blanket...

... but it didn’t hurt her arms when it brushed against the bare, irritated skin there, and it was _hideously_ fluffy and soft, and it was even green which she knows she hasn’t told anybody was her favorite color and, well, Monika is just too tired and too weirdly muddled to look a gift horse in the mouth. Raising it up to her face for a cuddle (because frankly she feels like she deserves one nice feeling in all this), the first thing she realizes - besides that it is exactly as soft and fluffy on her cheek as it is in her hands - is that it _smells like Sayori and Natsuki and Yuri,_

E-Er, their perfume, at least. That wasn’t what _they_ smelled like, even though that was what her brain had filled in for her. Regardless, it smells sweet and floral and sugary and breezy and _familiar,_ and she can’t help the impulse to hug it tighter to herself. Gosh. What kind of weird doctor’s office gave away presents like _this?_

“Awww, d’you like that, sunshine?”

Sayori’s voice sounds _very_ ooey-gooey, even by the not very high standards she has set today, but Monika... cannot find it in her to care. Her new blanket is soft, and it smells good, and she feels very foggy and kind of funny and she doesn’t want to be annoyed that Sayori is being so mushy. Maybe Monika _should_ be mushed-over. She has _owies,_ after all, and nobody seems to be in a very big hurry to fix them.

“... eh? Suuuuunshiiiine...”

A tiny giggle bubbles up from behind Monika’s pacifier as Sayori waves a hand in front of her face. Silly. She’s _clearly_ looking right _at_ her, and, see, now Sayori can tell because she’s smiling. She also tugs lightly on the ring of Monika’s pacifier, but - why would she do that? Monika just blinks slowly and quizzically at her, mouth very pointedly hanging onto the very nice sucky thing in it. 

“I guess you like that too, huh?” Sayori half-laughs, looking a little bit amused and a little bit worried about something. “That’s... what that does?”

“You’d be surprised how many little ones have some form of anxiety around medical appointments; nothing out of the ordinary, but best we keep something on hand for it.” The doctor says, smiling nicely down at Monika who hides a little bit in her new blanket. He _looked_ nice, but Monika can kind of remember being mad at him a minute ago, and that was... maybe important? Mmmmaybe. She blinks again, much heavier this time as she leans against Yuri - her ouches don’t feel as ouchy right now and that’s nice because that means she can sag in real close and...

“Miss Nakahara, I think you can bring her up to the table now,” the doctor says cheerfully, though Monika hardly notices. She’s a little bit busy rubbing her new blankie up against the tip of her nose, because it feels so nice, and also making squeezy fists in the air because _that_ feels really funny. How come her hands feel so funny? Did something happen? It’s dizzy when she suddenly goes up in the air but then Yuri’s laying her down gently and it’s kind of fine, kind of reminds her of when she had a nap earlier after being rinsed off, which was kinda ouchy and kinda blushy because she accidentally peed but no one thought that was bad and Sayori helped her ouches feel less ouch with nice cream and, uhh... 

... uhh... 

Monika clings a little more to her blankie and sucks a little harder on her pacifier. Why... was she on the table? Is it because someone’s taking off her— _hey!_

“Ssh-ssh-sh-shhh,” Yuri coos, doing the nice rubby thingy with Monika’s hand that she’s holding. “You’re okay, sweetie. Just worry about me, okay?”

... why would Monika be worried about Yuri? She’s nice. She’s holding Monika’s hand so nice, and her nice smell is all over Monika’s blankie and that feels so safe, even though - owwwww - there’s poking on her owiest owie parts which still feels very ouch even though Monika is a little bit floating away. Yuri makes a soft sorry noise and - and _ow,_ there’s a _sharp_ poke, and she doesn’t like being poked!

“Miss Nakahara, it would be alright if the little one took a bit of a nap for this.”

“Ah,” Yuri says, understandingly, and, there’s no more pokes for a minute. That’s very nice. Monika squirms tiredly as Yuri squeezes her hand, and thinks maybe that -

“Darling, are you feeling sleepy?”

It’s really really hard to keep her eyes open so much, especially because it’s so bright, and yeah she feels sleepy, really really sleepy, almost like kinda she cried a whole bunch and then got a soft blankie and a cuddle and now she’s lied down again and having such a nice pacifier. Yuri smiles at her and pets along her forehead and, Monika sighs and blinks very heavy and rubs her blankie up against her face and...

“There you go, sweetheart. Such a brave girl.”

Monika feels kind of... _proud,_ being called... brave, and...

... drifts off into sleep with a warm, content feeling in her chest. 

(Completely oblivious to both the doctor’s look of deep concern, _and_ the beginning of a long conversation to the three currently-conscious about _infection.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think doctor’s offices in real life should give out blankies to nervous people actually. i am now a single-issue voter (blankies)


	17. new year (precocious!verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! what do you mean its february
> 
> Characters?: De-Aged!Monika, Caregiver!Sayori, Caregiver!Yuri  
> AU?: this takes place at an unspecified future date in the universe of another of my fics, precocious! well. actually at a very specified future date, but i make up for this by having there be no specified dates in the original fic, so it's STILL NEBULOUS when *exactly* this occurs in the timeline  
> warnings?: literally none! enjoy lovey infant baby content

“Sayori. My  _ goodness.” _

“Happy Early New Year~!” Comes Sayori’s impish reply - sashaying into the living room in a cow kigurumi Yuri could swear she’s seen before, accompanied (seated in the crook of her arm) by  _ Monika, _ clad in the tiniest of hooded cow onesies. “It’s Year of the Cow, isn’t it?”

“I’bba’bab’bby,  _ g’ow,” _ Monika babbles, happily - a winning smile somehow still on display despite the cow-themed pacifier between her lips. Yuri truly, genuinely can’t help but smile back, bending down to the baby’s eye level with an amused sort of countenance.

“So you are~.” She says. “Do you know what a baby cow is called, Monnie?”

“Uuh?”

“A  _ calf!” _ Yuri says, Monika’s eyes widening.

“C’af!” 

Monika eagerly parrots, and Yuri’s smile becomes a grin in short order.

“That’s right, dearest, a calf.” She says. “You happen to make for a  _ very _ adorable little calf, darling.”

“I  _ c’af!” _

“Yuri,  _ please, _ my heart is gonna melt and it’s only nine-thirty,” Sayori begs (good-naturedly) but, alas, both Monika and Yuri seem to have plans.

“Mmmommy, mom-mmy,” Monika says, reaching out a hand as if she could physically grab Yuri’s attention. “C’af s’say? C’af say?”

“Oh? What do you think a calf says, Monnie?” Yuri asks, gentle. Monika furrows her brow in thought for a moment, sucking harder on her pacifier as she concentrates.

“... c’af s-ssay...”

“Mm?”

“... m—  _ moooo!” _

Monika declares, and oh no, oh dear. There goes Sayori’s heart, now a radiant puddle somewhere in the bottom of her torso.

“That’s  _ right, _ sweetheart!” Yuri says, quiet though just as celebratory as she always is for Monika’s little accomplishments. “Little calves say moo, just like their mama cow~.”

“M-Mooooo,” Monika squeaks, looking up at Sayori with an insistent tug on her hood. Sayori, defenseless, responds immediately.

“Mooooo~.”

And the delighted little giggles she gets in return are well worth a melted heart.

“Well, now, aren’t the two of you precious?”

“I ordered one in your size a week ago,” Sayori replies, finally feeling again as impish as she had been when she’d entered once she sees the blush alighting Yuri’s cheeks. “And lucky for you what came yesterday~!”

“... S-Sayori.”

“Mooo,” pipes in Monika. Expectantly. “Mooo.  _ Mooooo.” _

“Ah. I’m outnumbered,” Yuri sighs, half-covering her face as Sayori starts to giggle. 

“C’mon, Mommy, everyone knows little baby calves have  _ two _ mooooo-ommies,” Sayori beams as Monika pitches in a tiny “Yuh!” for good measure. 

“Alright, alright. I suppose it  _ is _ a good day to be lounging about in pajamas, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” hums Sayori, pressing an appreciative (and mildly apologetic) peck to Yuri’s cheek. “S’ on top of my dresser, can’t miss it~.”

_ ”Thank _ you, honey.”

“Moo! Moooo,” Monika wiggles a bit in Sayori’s arms as Yuri heads out of the living room. Sayori nuzzles the top of her head, pulling her into a slightly closer position.

“Mommy’s gonna go get changed, sweetie,” she says, “She’ll be right back! How about we go get breakfast while we wait, hmm?”

“M’iwk.”

“Hm?”

Sayori blinks, surprised. Even as sweet and babyish as she’s been for the past few months, Monika’s preferred to lisp  _ ‘b’ekfi’s!’ _ in mimicry of Sayori rather than—

“M’iwk,” Monika says, tugging on Sayori’s hood once again.  _ “C-aaaf.” _

“Oohhh,” Sayori nods understandingly. “Baby calves drink milkies for breakfasts, don’t they? So my little baby calf wants milk-breakfast too?”

“Uhhuhh,” Monika nods, up and down like a sweet little bobblehead. “C’af d’ingk m’iwky, p... p’e-eas’e.”

“Of  _ course!” _ Sayori says - quite unable to resist giving Monika a cuddle, which the baby happily burrows into, to her delight. “One milky-breakfast for a cute little calf, coming riiight up~.”

“T’aaaa-a’ngyuuu,” Monika gurgles, snuggled close and warm and content against Sayori, and, gosh. If this is how the new year was going to start off, Sayori thinks: it  _ is _ going to be a happy new year.


	18. naps (precocious!verse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: De-Aged!Monika, Caregiver!Yuri, Caregiver!Sayori  
> AU?: this takes place at an unspecified future date in the universe of another of my fics, precocious!  
> warnings?: breastfeeding implied, but if you're all fine with that it is *nothing* but like ten paragraphs of fluffy baby cotton candy sugarfloss . this is all i have to give pls take it

_ ”Ohhh, I  _ **_see._ ** _ You’re not sleepy, hmm. But you  _ **_must_ ** _ at least be hungry...” _

* * *

Monika gots  _ tricked. _

See, she isn’t sleepy. At all. Ever never. At least, she isn’t sleepy when Mommy plucks her up away from her blocks and horsey toys and says it’s time for a  _ naps. _ She’s a big girl, and she’s not sleepy, and she’s still playing, and naps are for babies that  _ aren’t _ still playing, and she manages to squawk all of this plus maybe another few complaints the whole way through getting changies without dropping her pacifier, not that she would have cried if she dropped it because she’s a big girl and—

Mommy stops her short in the middle of one of her very accurate statements and says, very reassuringly, that maybe if Monika’s not  _ sleepy, _ she’s  _ hungry. _ She doesn’t  _ really _ ask, just says, ‘acause Monika being the baby means Mommy probably knows what’s going on more better than she does so Mommy gets to pick - but Monika would never ever pass up special snuggle time with Mommy anyway so even if she wasn’t hungry she probably would have pretended she was.  _ And, _ it’s not taking a naps, so it’s even twice as good an idea!

... is what she thought, anyway. But maybe she was too excited for special snuggle time to really kinda think about it too much, ‘cos she’s only one or two  _ minutes _ into cuddly and milky and soft Mommy talksing before she’s blinking really  _ really _ heavy blinks. Even though she’s not even sleepy! 

She makes one or two annoyed little noises before Mommy pets her head and shhh-shhs and then she doesn’t really want to be annoyed anymore. She’s not really,  _ really _ sleepy anyway; she  _ always _ likes resting her eyes during special snuggles because then she can hear Mommy better, and she feels all cuddlier, and she only has to think about how tiny and special and cozy and loveyed she is. She always wakes up when Mommy switches her a’tween sides, an’ then when they’re all done ‘n she can go back to playing again, so she thinks this’ll be all the same as those times too.

E’scept her eyes go really,  _ really _ closed this time. She knows Mommy’s talking, but she doesn’t even know what she’s saying, an’ her head keeps going all floaty like she’s gonna go asleeps even though she keeps stubbornly openin’ up her eyes sorta sometimes. Sorta. She can’t even open ‘um anymore by the time Mommy switches her an’ that’s not faaaair, an’, 

She  _ doesn’t _ fall asleeps! But, um, but she doesn’t remember very much of the second half of snuggle time, and, an’ then Mommy’s patting her back an’ stuff before she even knows it. 

“There you go, darling,” Mommy murmurs, once Monika’s tummy stops feeling bubbly and just goes back to feeling as heavy and warm as her eyelids. How... how was she s’posed to play like this? This isn’t very fair at all, she thinks, as Mommy pets up and down her back as Monika sways in her lap. She’s just a  _ baby. _

“Well,  _ hello _ there, sunshine~”

H... huh? When did Mama get here? Monika’s brow furrows in confusion, even though her arms wobble out in front of her for Mama hugs anyway ‘cos she still feels so  _ tiny _ and heavy and she needs Mama to holds her. Mama smiles and picks her uppies, and holds her nice and close so Monika can hear all her nice Mama noises, and she’s swaying back and forth an’...

“Ohhhh, poor baby,” Mama coos, nudging Monika’s pacifier back into her mouth as her confused little blinks became longer and longer. “Someone’s  _ all _ full of milks, huh, sweetpea?”

Monika... was, all full of milks, yes. She squirms a little bit in Mama’s arms, just until she’s at the  _ mostest _ comfortable carry-spot, because she’s very very heavy and tiny and very... cozy... and, fuzzy. And. And did Mommy and Mama know this was gonna happens to Monika a’cause of special snuggles time? ‘Cos, ‘cos that’s not...

... but Monika  _ is _ so warm and snuggly, and, her tummy’s all full up, an’ she doesn’t wanna go anywheres, she just wants carrys with Mama. An’ Mama  _ is _ carrys her, Mama carries her allaway to Monika’s room, an’ Monika shuts her eyes for just one seconds ‘cos it’s so hard to keep ‘um opens right now an’ when they opens back up Mama’s wrapping her up so tight and comfy in her lovey blankie an’ makin’ Monika a little tiny baby bean an’, then Monika maybe decides to leave her eyes closeded ‘cos she’s just a little bean now anyways an’ so she’s not gonna do anythin’ except be holded an’ cuddled, an’ rocked back n’ forth, an’...

... an’ Monika’s takin’ a naps, a’cause now she’s really sleepy, a’course, ‘cos she’s just a baby and babies, take... 

Nice, long... 

Cozy...

... sleepy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see this is the secret. here is why everything i write is like this: i start writing at 12 midnight and i stop when i pass out AND im an enormous baby. its the perfect strategy to write This, Mostly


	19. color number shape line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters?: Regression-Magic-User!Sayori, Unwitting-And-Regressable-Girlfriend!Monika  
> AU?: actually i think the characters tab speaks for itself with this one AKHALSKJASF. theyve turned it into a sport and its the only one monika is good at losing <3  
> Warnings?: if you're not a fan of good-ol' braindrain and 'surprise you're a baby now!' then don't read this one! monika pees her pants once she's already a baby anyway too pfft

“Well, good  _ morning, _ cutie~!”

Monika mumbles something that seems like a “good morning”, eyes still intensely focused on her smartphone. Sayori grins, stretching luxuriously as she steps over to the couch, leaning over just enough to see the fixated pout on Monika’s face.

“Hard game?”

“Mmph.” Monika says.

“I’ll leave you to it, then! I  _ did _ say I’d give you a head start~!”

And Sayori knows, sashaying away without a single indignant peep from Monika, that she’s just made  _ record _ time for catching her darling girlfriend.

* * *

Wasn’t  _ Monika’s _ fault that she kept losing this stupid game!

The rules were, for one thing, not entirely clear - that’s fine for being a puzzle game, you know, having to puzzle out the rules, but every time she tried and  _ thought _ she’d gotten it she’d lose again! Was she supposed to sort these things by color? Shape? Size? Was she not supposed to sort but put them in order? What order?! Did it keep  _ changing _ on her?!?

Sayori had seemed pretty confident that she wouldn’t be able to figure it out. Which had seemed kind of rich, coming from Sayori, but now she was starting to think that maybe she had just intentionally searched for a prank game. This was getting ridiculous, she thinks, watching the screen spit out another game over message after her latest attempt at solving the thing.

Extremely ridiculous. She  _ had _ vaguely registered Sayori saying something to her a bit ago - she did kind of block everything out when she got focused on something - so, confident she would not be waking up her girlfriend, she clicks out of the game and to her messages app, scrolls to find Sayori’s name, and—

Stares at her keyboard for a bit.

... she had a message to be typing. Right. She was going to ask— right. If Sayori had any idea what the hell she was supposed to be doing with this.

[sayori this game is IMPOSIBLE]<<

[*IMPOSSIBL]<<

[how am i suposed to put them together???]<<

>>[cant you figure it out?? omg monika]

Monika scowls.

>>[its super easy you just have to line all the pieces up right]

[im TRYIG]<<

[*N]<<

>>[geezzz im tryign to make you breakfast! i cant come do it for you]

Fine. If Sayori didn’t want to be helpful then Monika would finish the puzzle herself. Besides, she  _ did _ at least sort of tell her that the right thing to do was to line up the pieces, which did rule out grouping them up in other ways.

Let’s see. How to line them up? A lot of random, numbered, colored shapes. Well, she could try by number order—

Nope.

How about... number of sides?

Hm. Nope. 

Monika tries forwards  _ and _ backwards before she’s struck with the idea to try in rainbow order. That could be something! Waiting patiently for the game to finish the losing animation of re-scrambling the pieces, she goes to drag the first color to the first slot...

... and...

... pauses, staring at the screen. 

Rainbow order. Right. What... color went first in rainbow order? There were a  _ lot _ of colors here. 

Oh. Maybe she should ask Sayori.

The keyboard gives her pause,  _ again, _ but with some concentration (and her tongue poking slightly out of her mouth) she sends off her question.

[what colors first]<<

>>[huh?]

[in raynbow]<<

[*reinbow]<<

[**🌈]<<

>>[pffft, monika, lookit the picture you sent silly]

>>[red!]

A—Ah. Yes. Red. Of course. She squints a little at the emoji - okay, red-orange-yellow-green— how had rainbow color order slipped her mind?

She didn’t sleep very well last night. That’s probably it. Plus, she did get up super early to take a crack at this game. 

Alright, red is first, then orange, yellow. Monika swipes all of those pieces to the proper places, then...

... then... comes...

...  _ then... _

Monika ends up going between the message with the rainbow emoji and the game several times. This involves a lot of clicking the button on her phone, which she is rather tempted to click more than she really needs to.  _ Eventually, _ though, she gets the darn colors in order and—

**GAME OVER**

Oh come  _ on! _

Monika groans, watching frustratedly as the pieces re-scramble. It hadn’t even had anything to do with the darn colors. Staring at the random, lettered, colored shapes—

... had they always been  _ lettered? _

Monika frowns. She could try them in letter order, maybe. Not sure how that one hadn’t occurred to her yet. Let’s see...

A, B, C... D...

... errr...

[sayri uhh]<<

>>[?]

[how do leters go again]<<

(This would probably be a more embarrassing question if she hadn’t had to use all her concentration just to peck out that message.)

>>[the alphabet, sweetie??]

Yes, that. That’s what it’s called.

[YS THAT]<<

>>[ohh, you know the song! a-b-c-d-e-f-g]

[AA]<<

[yeaah]<<

[thank yu 😊]<<

That was a cute smiling picture and it felt right to send. Sayori was really nice, helping her out even though she was probably busy.

Let’s see, back to the game. A-B-C-D...

... G...

Annnd she’s going back and forth between the game and the typing again. This would be more annoying if not for the nice clicky noises the button makes, which is nice enough that Monika spaces out just clicking it as the screen darkens down and lights up for— ooh, uh. A little bit of time. She really must be tired.

... not that any of this really matters because of course once she’s finally got the pieces in order, the game spits them all back out again. 

_ Auuugghhhhh. _

* * *

Monika has sent several messages to Sayori over the past thirty-five minutes!

>>[SAYRI WHAT NUBRS GO U]

>>[UP]

>>[21346]

>>[sayry is alpabed acdb.fg?]

>>[☹️]

>>[whs yor favrit colr]

>>[makeing rabow]

And, of  _ course, _ Sayori was doing her very  _ very _ best to help her along.

[aw, monika, you know your counting! 1-2-3-4, right?]<<

[ohhh, you almost got it! sooo close!!!]<<

[my favorite color is blue 💙 what’s your favorite?]<<

>>[💚💚💚]

[wow, green!!! 😊😊]<<

Oh, she was getting a text right now, as a matter of fact. Smiling impishly into her morning coffee (mostly cream and sugar as it may be), she hums a little tune as she flicks her way over to her messages, which displays:

>>[🔴🔺🔸⬛️❌]

>>[?? ?]

Oh, yes. Sayori should definitely start making breakfast riiiight about...

[🔵🔸❌🔺⬛️ ?]<<

>>[oooiihhh]

[youre welcome! 💖 😘]<<

... now.

Setting her phone back down on the kitchen table with one more quick stretch, Sayori sighs pleasantly and starts off towards the refrigerator.

* * *

Monika pouts, staring unfocused at the screen clutched in both her hands as the pieces scatter out and go scrambled again. Not agaaainnn. The pieces aren’t supposed to do that, she thinks. They’re supposed to... do... something else. 

Right?

Monika never  _ sees _ them do anything else, though. Maybe this is the only thing the shapes do?

She decides to line them up again, anyway. Star then circle, then, square. And triangle. And then the one that looks like a stop sign, and, green! Annnd then the one with the A on it.

The screen goes shaky again and scrambles the shapes all around, and Monika blinks. Wasn’t that the right way to put them? Maybe she should put green first, since that was her favorite color... and this time the star is green! And the square is blue, and Monika likes that color too, so she puts it next to green...

Monika lines up all the shapes again and she’s sure that she did it right this time, but the screen shakes and mixes all the shapes up still! She frowns, starting to feel kind of upset, but— oh—  _ this _ time there’s jingly  _ music _ and, uh, did she do it right, after all? She isn’t sure how to tell. Everything got shaken around again but the music sounded happy and... maybe she should try it again to be sure she did it right. There’s a circle and a moon and a square and a star and a stop sign, and yellow and purple and blue and green and orange, and B and G and A and D and F and C, all in a row, and...

She got the jingly music again!

Monika beams, giggling a little as she watches the screen mix everything up again. Her head feels kinda funny but she’s so proud that she figured out how the game works that she puts all the pieces back again, square circle star stop-sign moon purple circle green blue lellow square three one four seven pink, um, green—

The music plays again and Monika feels  _ so _ proud as the screen shakes and jumbles her all up again. That’s the feeling in her head, she thinks - it’s all the shapes getting mixed up and scrambled and turned into new pretty colors. Absentmindedly, she jiggles the screen in her hand a bit, and gasps as all the shapes go rattling around in the little box, colors changing mesmerizingly as they bonked against each other and the happy jingle starts to go again. She did it! 

Giggling and _utterly_ delighted, Monika kicks her legs out further, settling into the couch and happily shaking the box with all the fun, noisy shapes in it. Shake shake shake shake shape shape shape shape...

* * *

“I’ _ iid i’d!” _

Sayori is greeted by a very enthusiastic gurgle and a very colorful sort of blur shaken at her the next time she comes over to the couch, courtesy of her  _ very _ enthusiastic little Monniekins.

“You did it?!” She gasps, looking very surprised and truly amazed as the baby on the sofa giggles, shaking the phone in her clumsy grip again and giving a squeal of delight as a jingly sort of noise emanates from it.

_ ”S’apes!” _ Monika exclaims, proudly, as though that is all that needs explaining. Given her unfocused gaze and the trail of drool running absently down her chin, though, in her mind that probably  _ is _ all that needs explaining. Sayori beams, petting affectionately behind Monika’s little ear.

“Yeah, you made the shapes go, huh, baby?”

“Uhhuhhh,” Monika purrs, leaning heavily into Sayori’s hand.  _ ”S’apes, _ Mammaaaa.”

“Ehehe~. You shook them up  _ really _ good, didn’t you? Just like all those thinks in your cute little head~!”

Monika hums happily; the fact that Sayori knows exactly what happened to her doesn’t really give her any pause. Of  _ course _ Mama would know everything - she’s  _ Mama, _ and she’s petting baby Monnie so so nice besides she doesn’t gotta worry about anything else. 

“Let’s give that fun game oooone last big shake for Mama, hmm?”

Monnie is  _ very _ happy to give the colorful shape box one more big rattly mixy-uppy shake, cooing happily at the funny noise and the jumbly feeling in her head. Jumbly tumbley mixy-uppy... oohhh, uppy... Mama give her uppies now? 

“There we go~!”

Mama croons, smiling biiiig and happy to Monnie’s dazed sort of look as her thoughts wander away from the fun mysterious shape box, which Mama is gently prying out of her hands - and shaking once herself, giggling a bit as a little more drool runs out of Monnie’s mouth and, for some funny reason, her somewhat-puffy pants start to feel warm...

“Oh, that is a  _ fun _ one. C’mon, lil’ missy, let’s you and me go have some nummy nummy breakfasts now~!”

_ Breakfasts! _ Ummy! Mama taps the button on the box and then it doesn’t have colors on it anymore, just a baby face blinking disappointedly that kinda looks a little bit... like... Monnie, but, then Mama’s picking her uppies like she askeded an’ Monnie wants breakfasts, not funny boxes.

So, popping her tiny thumb contentedly into her mouth, she snuggles into Mama’s shoulder and waits for breakfasts to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> monika: im babky?  
> sayori: youre babky!  
> monika:  
> monika: how
> 
> remember everyone if your gf is a noted user of wicked baby magicks then maybe be more suspicious when she downloads games on your phone. this has been a PSA you're all very welcome

**Author's Note:**

> comments are the best tips of all! :'D (but of course kudos also make my heart all warm and fuzzy)


End file.
